


Second To Your Touch

by chooken



Series: Lending Me Your Love [1]
Category: Westlife
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Awkward Conversations, Balloons, Blindfolds, Boss/Employee Relationship, Bottoming from the Top, Breakfast, Brothels, Cigarettes, Coffee, Cohabitation, Consensual Kink, Conversations, Crying, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, Exhaustion, Explicit Language, Fingerfucking, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Foot Fetish, Friendship, Gags, Grocery Shopping, Hand Jobs, House Hunting, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Intercrural Sex, Laundry, Light Bondage, M/M, Marcky, Massage, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Past Rape/Non-con, Prostitution, Sensation Play, Sex Toys, Showers, Smoking, Smut, Spanking, Storms, Television, Tickling, Video Cameras, Virginity, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 21:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3091400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicky's Dublin brothel is struggling at best, but when he reluctantly takes on Mark as a favour to a friend, neither of them realise how much both their lives can change in a week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Earlier

Nicky leaned back on his chair, taking a long drag of his cigarette and holding his phone to his ear with his other hand. The desk in front of him was covered in papers, and he eyed them, wondering just how many of them was a bill of some kind.  


“Look Bryan,” he sighed. “I just don’t have the facilities to take on another kid. I’m up to my arse in bills as it is.”  


“Then this is what you need. Another kid, another income. Look, he’s a really good lad. I’d hang onto him myself, but the money’s just not coming in and…”  


“And it’s better for me, is it?”  


“Please? Come on, I’ve tried everyone else. He’s a lovely lad. Does as he’s told, doesn’t make much fuss, gets on with everyone. He’s no trouble.”  


“Bryan…” Nicky stubbed out his cigarette and began shuffling through the papers on his desk, stacking them one-handed into ‘bills’ and ‘not bills’. He was pretty sure he knew which pile was going to be bigger. This was the last thing he needed. Some inexperienced pretty boy mooching off him.  


“Look, you could just meet him? I promise, he’s a fantastic investment.”  


“Bryan, I can’t deal with this shit right now…”  


“Just see him. He’ll change your mind, I promise.”  


Nicky groaned, abandoning the papers and beginning to spin slowly on his chair. He didn’t have time for arguing. He had two clients coming in the next half hour, and the bloody maid had left on maternity leave yesterday.  


“Look.” He said. “I don’t have time for this shit. What’s tomorrow?”  


“Erm… the twenty-fifth I think. Tuesday.”  


“Bring him over tomorrow. Seven in the morning, because I’m fucked if I’m going to waste an hour of time I could be doing business, especially to look at one of your investments.”  


He could almost hear Bryan grin.  


“Thanks so much, Nicky. You won’t regret it.”

“I better fucking not.” Nicky retorted, slamming down the phone. He pressed his fingers to his temples. He had a blinder of a headache, all of a sudden.  



	2. Tuesday

Mark stood on the doorstep next to Bryan, glancing around at his surroundings. The house was nice enough, from what he could see of the outside. The garden was well-kept, bursting with colourful flowers and small shrubs. The paintjob was good, but not impeccable – exactly as though it was just a normal house in the suburbs, as though it was just a normal bloke who lived here.

He stifled a yawn. It was way too early in the morning for this.

“It’ll be okay, lad. He comes off a hard nut, but he’s a pushover, really.”

Mark nodded. “You know, even if this doesn’t work out… thanks. It’s not everyone who’d do this for someone, y’know?”

“No worries, kid.” Bryan grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re a good sort, and I see big things for you. Just don’t forget little old me when you’re under Richard Branson or someone.”

“If I’m ever under Richard Branson, you’ll be the first person I think of.” Mark joked, nudging Bryan lightly. Bryan nudged him back.

“It’ll be fine. Just be polite and make a good impression. I know you’re good at those.” He laughed as he remembered his first encounter with Mark. The lad had been scared as a kitten, and so eager to please. Adorable and painful in equal measure. But he’d learned fast and been one of the best Bryan had ever had the pleasure to know.

There were footsteps in the hall…

The door opened, and a cute, tired-looking blonde guy stood there, smiling impatiently at Bryan and the kid stood next to him.

“Bryan.” He nodded.

“Hey, Nicky.” Bryan replied, stepping aside to allow Mark through the door. Nicky glanced it him quickly, then away, looking disinterested. Good start, then. “This is Mark.”

“Hi. Come on. Both of you.” Nicky gestured, allowing them to follow him into the living room. Mark looked around as they walked through the well-kept hall into the neat living room. The blue wallpaper was peeling a little at the corners, but everything was tidy and tasteful. Nicky offered them both a cup of tea. Bryan sat down on one of the couches, and Mark went to sit too. But Nicky shook his head.

“Stand up, kid. I want to take a look at you.”

Mark nodded, stepping forward for inspection. He was used to all this - being treated because of what he looked like rather than who he was. Nicky put a hand on his jaw, turning his head surprisingly gently in both directions, his eyes bright and sharp, taking in everything. He tilted Mark’s chin up, pulling his collar slightly to the side, looking at his neck.

“You use anything?”

“Like drugs?” Mark asked, shaking his head when Nicky nodded. “No.”

“Have you ever…?” Mark shook his head. No. He might take a couple of something if he went clubbing, but it was pretty rare, and never on the job. “Take your shirt off.” Nicky nodded at the hem of Mark’s shirt, and Mark reached down immediately, tugging the shirt over his head and holding it in one hand when it was off. Nicky looked him up and down. Goosebumps spread on Mark’s arms, and down his chest. His nipples hardened. Christ, was it cold in here, or what?

 

*

 

Nicky sighed. The kid was cute so far. He could play the sweet and innocent card if he had to and, while he did have a little extra weight on him, it helped build his baby-faced persona. He was marketable, certainly.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.” Mark replied. Nicky nodded, reaching out and running his hand through dark, thick chest hair. Mark shivered a little. Nicky liked that – it was best to be responsive to touch – it built the illusion up for his clients a bit more. He touched one hard nipple, and twisted it gently, nodding when Mark whimpered a little under his breath. Good.

“You wax?”

“No. But… but I could start if you…?”

“No.” Nicky replied brusquely. The hair was a nice touch, balanced out the cuteness a bit. Not that it mattered to him. This was to get Bryan off his back, he reminded himself. He didn’t need another employee, no matter how pretty this one was

 

*

 

Mark wasn’t quite sure what to make of Nicky. He seemed nice enough, but so brusque and closed-off. He wasn’t sure how to feel comfortable around him. He didn’t seem to be a bad guy or anything. Just… cold.

“Take off your pants.” Nicky said, settling back on the arm of the couch while Mark reached down and undid his belt, not feeling particularly nervous. He’d done this plenty of times before in front of other men. But something about Nicky’s gaze on him made him feel self-conscious, and made his hands tremble slightly.

He toed off his sneakers and stepped out of his jeans. Then he went to work on his boxers, tugging them down his legs.

Nicky raised an eyebrow, looking straight at Mark’s groin. It made Mark’s cock want to shrink up into his body.

“Uncut, hey? How big are you hard, kid? Really?”

He glanced at Bryan, who nodded in encouragement, and then turned back to Nicky, who was looking at him expectantly.

“Eight and a half?”

Nicky didn’t look all that impressed. In fact, he didn’t look much of anything. He didn’t nod, he didn’t shrug. He just moved closer, bending down and touching Mark gently, lifting his cock away from his balls and giving them a quick once-over. Mark tried not to wriggle in discomfort.

“Where’d you get that scar?”

“Football injury.” Mark replied promptly, feeling almost as though he were in front of a drill sergeant.

“Turn around, and bend over.” Nicky said, reaching for a bottle of lube and a latex glove that lay on the coffee table. It was so strange, such a sordid thing in the middle of such obvious domesticity. Mark almost giggled, but he was so used to this kind of thing that it was more because of nerves. He needed this job badly, and knew how important a good impression was.

“Had a shit recently?”

Mark nodded. “And a shower enema. Two hours ago.”

“Good lad.” Nicky said, and Mark almost flinched away from that voice in surprise. It was the first time Nicky had said anything remotely encouraging since he’d arrived. “I assume you take anal?”

“Of course.” Mark tried not to sound like a smart-arse. He really did. Nicky snorted something almost like a laugh.

“Okay, I’m just gonna check you.” He pulled on the glove. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I just need to check.”

Mark nodded, and turned around, bending over and grabbing his own ankles, letting Nicky press a slippery finger inside him and biting his lip against the stretch. He looked up at Bryan, who gave him an encouraging wink. Mark smiled back.

 

*

 

Nicky wiggled his finger a little. The kid was tight, but there seemed to be no particular discomfort on Mark’s part, and he wasn’t tensing. In fact, he seemed almost totally relaxed. Another good sign. The kid had a good attitude too, and seemed accommodating enough. But of course, this was all for Bryan’s benefit…

“You can get dressed if you like, Mark.” Nicky smiled, gesturing towards Mark’s clothes, which lay in a pile on the floor. “Then sit down. I need to ask you a couple of questions.”

While Mark was getting dressed, Nicky led Bryan into the hallway, out of earshot.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“He seems a good lad, Bryan.” Nicky sighed. “I just don’t have the time at the moment. Business is slow enough – I don’t have any work for him. Having two is ambitious enough as it is.”

“I can send his clients with him. They pay enough. It’s not a problem…”

“If he’s got clients already, why are you sending him away?” Nicky asked, raising an eyebrow. Bryan had so far given the impression that Mark needed work because there wasn’t enough at Bryan’s place. What was this ‘clients’ business?

“Cos I…” Bryan stammered, then sighed, apparently realising he’d been caught out when Nicky glared for long enough. “There was an incident.”

“Shit, Bryan!” Nicky cried angrily. “Wait til the last second to tell me, why don’t you? I don’t want any fucking troublemakers!”

“It wasn’t his fault!” Bryan protested. “Look…” He put a hand on Nicky’s back, guiding him a little further away from the living room. “…a bloke got out of hand. It was my fault, really. I should have checked on him, and I didn’t. The fact of the matter is, it shook him up and he doesn’t feel comfortable working with me any more. It’s nothing personal. It doesn’t affect his work in general, it was just the environment. He’s a good lad, and I wanted to help him out. Absolving my own sins, I guess.”

Nicky sighed, putting a hand over his face. “Bryan… you know the situation I’m in. The last thing I need is more problems…”

“Just try him for a week, okay?” Bryan pleaded. “He’s really experienced, there’s not much he doesn’t do, and he’s great in bed. He won’t make trouble, I promise you.”

“Bryan…” Nicky glanced back at the living room. If the boy was trouble he didn’t exactly want him in house unattended. Not that he was likely to go randomly smashing things off shelves like a toddler in the supermarket. “Look, I haven’t decided anything. But there’s not that much work to go around. I’m stretched with Kian and Shane as it is…”

“One week.” Bryan repeated. “Please. I’ll owe you.”

Nicky bit his lip, thinking. One week wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Then he could get both Mark and Bryan out of his hair. And anyway, if Mark came with his own clients, that might mean extra for his others. The big numbers on those bills really did need shrinking, after all.

“His medicals are all up-to-date?”

“Yeah. He’s clean. And you know me – stricter than hell on safe sex.”

Nicky nodded. So was he. He didn’t need that kind of negative attention around his business.

“What doesn’t he do?

“The heavy stuff, mostly. He does most fantasies, will take and give just about anything you ask him to. Doesn’t do heavy pain or scat or anything. You know. But he’s always up for a bit of light bondage, candle wax, spanking, all that sort of thing. As long as he gets fair warning.”

Nicky sighed. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Nah.” Bryan shrugged, a triumphant grin skating across his lips. “Good kid. You’ll like him.”

 

*

 

“That’s the toilet at the end of the hall there.” Nicky said, pointing to the white door. “Shower’s the other white door next to it. Employee shower, no clients in there unless I’ve told you specifically. The blue doors…” He gestured at the four numbered doors lining either side of the hall. “…are the bedrooms. One, two, three and four. You can count, I assume?” Mark laughed gently and nodded, and Nicky couldn’t help but smile. The lad was nice enough, if a bit shy.

He led Mark into the first room. It was nicely decorated in purples, whites and browns. Tasteful. The bed was soft and comfortable looking, but Mark noticed the restraint rings built into the posts. He couldn’t help a small twinge of uncertainty, but pushed it away. It was barely anything to think about anymore. Just a stupid thing that had happened once and wouldn’t be happening again.

Nicky moved over to a small cupboard on the other side of the room and opened it.

“Your gear.” Nicky said. “All the rooms have the same things. It’s just the usual stuff. Dildos, restraints…” He pointed at each object in turn as he named them. Mark watched studiously, even though he knew what all of them were. “…and the lube and condoms are there.” Nicky finished, pointing at the small table next to the bed where, indeed, there was a small bowl of condoms and a bottle of oil. “I don’t suppose I have to remind you about safe sex? Check everyone for rashes before you start, and I never ever want to see you fucking without a condom. I won't bend on that.”

“Bryan was the same.” Mark nodded. “I know. Safety first, right?”

“That’s it.” Nicky confirmed. “Use anything you want as long as I’ve confirmed it with you and the client beforehand. They don’t get anything they don’t pay for. If there’s anything extra they want I’ll make sure it’s in your room before the session, so don’t worry about that.”

“Thanks.”

“Erm… yeah. And… I think that’s it.” He looked at Mark and raised an eyebrow. “Any questions?”

Mark shook his head. It was all pretty standard. He was sure he'd pick up any details as he went along.

“You have a place to live?”

Mark shrugged. “Bryan had rooms in his house…”

“That’s because Bryan’s a rich fuck and he can afford them.” Nicky laughed. Mark’s heart dropped. Oh. He bit his lip, panic filling him. Where was he supposed to live, then? He didn’t have an apartment or anything, he’d just been living in Bryan’s spare room.

“You don’t have anywhere to live?” Nicky asked, feeling exasperated and slightly sympathetic for the confused, anxious looking young man stood in front of him. “Where’s your things, then?”

“Bryan said he’d drop them over.” Mark explained. “I think he must’ve thought…”

“Fucking Bryan.” Nicky groaned, running his fingers through his hair. He was very aware of Mark’s expectant, frightened look, and turned to offer him something like a smile, although he was very honestly pissed off. “This is bullshit; you’re only supposed to be here for a week! What did he expect you to do after that, then?”

“I… I think he was hoping for the best.” Mark suggested. “He’s busy, you know? I appreciate what he’s done so far.”

“Okay…” Nicky sighed. “Look, we’ll figure something out, alright? I’m not going to throw you out on the street, if that’s what you’re thinking.” It was, apparently. Mark gave him an awkward shrug. “We’ll sort something out.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost eight-thirty. The others will be here in a second, if you want to come meet them? We take our first bookings at nine a.m., and the last bookings start at ten p.m., closed by eleven.”

“That’s fine.”

“I know.” Nicky replied. There was a noise from downstairs, and Nicky gestured to the door. “Come on.”

When they arrived downstairs there was a small, dark-haired man rummaging through the fridge in the small kitchen. He didn’t look up as they entered, too involved in searching for breakfast, apparently.

“Stop eating my bloody food, Shane!” Nicky barked, making Mark jump. He flinched away, startled, but then Nicky began to laugh and Shane joined in.

“Jesus, don’t fucking do that to me!” Shane cried, sticking his hand back in the fridge and pulling out a wedge of cheese. He looked up, and his eyes widened as he caught sight of Mark. “Sorry, I didn’t realise we had a client…”

“We don’t.” Nicky interrupted. “Shane, Mark. Mark, Shane.” Mark waved, feeling an eejit even while he was doing it. “Mark’s working here on a trial basis. One of McFadden’s.”

“Oh. Well… hi.” Shane looked surprised, but reached out a hand nevertheless, shaking Mark’s. He was a fairly cute guy, in an unassuming, sweet kind of way. He had kind eyes, and a cheeky, friendly smile. Mark couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hi.”

Shane grabbed a couple of slices of bread and began to slice the cheese. “Sorry, you’ll have to excuse me. I missed breakfast.”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. You’re always eating my food!” Nicky growled.

“Come off it. I pay for your bloody food.” Shane countered. He glanced at Mark. “You want a sandwich or something?”

“Um… yeah.” Mark said. He’d missed breakfast too, and his stomach was growling. That was what happened when you were up at five in the morning, he supposed. “Any peanut butter?”

“Yeah. Crunchy okay?” Shane asked, reaching into the pantry and pulling out a jar while Nicky stood in mock anger, watching the two men. Shane sniggered at him. “He thinks he’s all tough, but he’s a kitten, really.” He told Mark, who giggled, then blushed when he caught Nicky glaring at him.

Nicky sighed, lifting his hands in defeat. “Fine, do whatever the fuck you want. It’s not like it’s my house or anything.”

“And it’s not like it’s my arse that pays for your house or anything.” Shane retorted. Mark found himself laughing again. As serious as Nicky seemed to be, Shane was apparently quite adept at getting under his skin. Mark wondered if Shane ever got seriously in trouble. Obviously not, if he was still here.

“Sometimes, Filan, I want to hurt you.”

“Promises, promises.” Shane stuck his tongue out behind Nicky’s back when the blonde stalked from the room. He finished making Mark’s sandwich and handed it to him. Mark took a small bite. “You done much work before?”

Mark nodded. “Few years.”

“What do you do?”

“Most things.” Mark shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. He didn’t particularly like talking about himself, especially not now. He didn’t exactly want people knowing… though he had an idea Nicky might know at least something. Bryan had to have said something to get him accepted here – Nicky didn’t seem as though he’d been at all happy about Mark’s presence. At least he wasn’t being forced to sleep on the street. That was something. His stomach knotted.

Shane nodded. “Nicky’s shown you where everything is?

“Yeah.”

“Okay… good.” Shane said a little awkwardly. The looked at each other for a moment, neither quite sure what to say.

“How long have you been working here?” Mark asked finally. Shane smiled.

“Couple of years. I’m pretty new, considering. Kian’s been here for almost three.”

“Kian?”

Shane laughed, turning and heaving himself up onto the counter, his legs kicking lightly against the cupboard door. “You haven’t been told about Kian yet? My advice: wear a helmet.” There was the sound of a door opening and stomping in the hall. “He’s in a good mood today, sounds like. Just be prepared to duck.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, his heart beating a little faster as the footsteps got closer. He half expected a big, hulking man, with teeth like razors and eyes spitting fire. What he didn’t expect was the small blonde that appeared, his light blue eyes filled with mild grumpiness and his hunched stance hardly welcoming.

“Morning, Kian.” Shane said. Kian grunted. “This is Mark.” Kian looked up.

“’Ello.”

“Don’t mind him. He’s a twat in the mornings.”

“It’s not the morning. It’s too fucking early to be the morning.”

“And who was out drinking all last night?” Shane teased. “I’d think you’d be used to the hours by now, Egan.”

“Fuck off, Filan.”

Mark found a smile stealing over his lips, and covered it with one hand. Shane grinned at him.

“Like I was saying...” Shane continued, as Kian looked at Mark curiously. “This is Mark. He’s working here now.”

“He’s what?” Kian’s eyes widened, and he looked suddenly more awake. “Since when were we looking for new people?”

“I don’t know the details.” Shane replied.

“Bryan McFadden recommended me.” Mark interrupted, having begun to feel invisible. “He… uh… couldn’t keep me on any more and he asked Nicky if he’d take me.” He paused, looking at Kian’s anguished face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on…”

“It’s no problem.” Shane said, glaring at Kian, who was glaring at Mark. “Kian, would you stop being a twat? Complain to Nicky if you’ve got an issue.”

“I’m going to.” Kian retorted, and stomped out of the room. Shane looked apologetically at Mark.

“I’m sorry about him.” He said, taking a bite from his sandwich. His voice lowered sympathetically. “Look, to be honest, I don’t particularly want an extra person around either. It’s easier to split money between two than between three, at least in the interests of my own bank account. But I trust Nicky, and I’m sure he had a good reason for hiring you.”

Mark nodded. He supposed he hadn’t expected anything less. Shane nudged him lightly, smiling.

“You seem a nice kid, okay? I’m not going to give you shit for that. We actually used to have a few more people, but there wasn't enough work to go around so they wandered off for greener pastures.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry. I wasn’t really told much when Bryan brought me. Just that there might be a job.” Mark mumbled, feeling more out-of-place than ever.

Shane nodded. “Well, it’s not your fault. Don’t take any of my regulars and we’ll get on fine, yeah?” He looked like he was about to say something else, but at that moment Nicky’s head popped through the door. Mark could hear Kian complaining loudly behind him.

“Shane, Ryan’s just got here; I’ve sent him up to Room 2.” Nicky said. Shane nodded, popping the last of his sandwich in his mouth and sliding down off the counter.

“It was nice to meet you, Mark.” Shane said around a mouthful of cheese and bread. “Talk to you later.” Mark nodded.

“See ya.” Shane waved, disappearing through the door.

Nicky turned on Kian, who was still whining loudly. “Would you shut the fuck up!?” He barked. Kian gasped, but silenced immediately, even though he continued glaring sullenly at Mark. “Stop acting like a child, will you? He’s only here for the week, and I won’t take this shit in my own house. If you’ve got a problem, you’re free to leave.” Mark had to admit he took more than a little satisfaction in watching Kian’s mouth open and close silently, like a fish. “You got a problem?”

“No.” Kian sulked, turning and slouching away. Nicky sighed, turning back into the kitchen and looking at Mark, who attempted a smile. Nicky sighed again.

“Sorry about that. Great worker, but he can be such a…” He let the sentence trail off, allowing Mark to fill in the spaces himself.

“He doesn’t like me much.”

“Kian doesn’t like anyone much.” Nicky replied, rolling his eyes. “He’ll get over it.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve probably thrown everything out, haven’t I? I didn’t mean to…”

“You have a bit.” Nicky admitted. “It’s Bryan’s fault though, not yours. Great bloke, great businessman, awful thinker. Here, sit down.” He motioned to a chair at the kitchen table. Mark sat. “Bryan said you’re a good worker, and I believe him. There’s nothing wrong there. But we’re not making great business at the moment, and the truth is, if he hadn’t said you were bringing your own clients I wouldn’t have considered hiring you at all. You get me?” Mark nodded. “I can’t keep you here if you’re not bringing in the income. But I said a week, and damned if I’m ever going to back down on a promise.” Mark nodded again.

“Thanks. It means a lot, you know?”

“This isn’t for you, kid. This is for me.” Nicky said bluntly. “I know that makes me sound like a bastard, but you’re an investment. You seem nice enough, and that’s good, because I want you to get on with the others, but the bottom line is that I need someone who can fuck.”

“I can do that.” Mark joked, feeling a little more confident. As much as Nicky had come off as cold at first, it seemed that he was more businesslike than anything. He had a business, and he wanted to keep it running. Mark could respect that.

“I should hope so.” Nicky laughed. “Otherwise I’d really have to worry about what Bryan saw in you. Which reminds me…” He looked at Mark seriously. “I need a maid.” Mark blinked, not sure what that had to do with him. Nicky smiled. “And you need somewhere to live.”

“Ah.” Mark replied, the pieces falling into place.

“Here’s the deal, okay? I don’t have spare rooms or anything. I’ve the rooms upstairs, and my room’s at the back of the house, with my office.” He pointed through the living room to a door leading off it. “But I can let you sleep in one of the bedrooms. Just keep it tidy, and don’t spread your stuff everywhere. Be out by 8am so it’s nice for the clients. You can keep your things in my office.”

Mark nodded, a swell of gratitude filling him, and making his muscles slack with relief.

“Thank you so much. I…”

“Don’t thank me.” Nicky laughed. “It makes me embarrassed. And anyway, this isn’t for free. You’re the maid now, as well as a worker. You can do that?”

“Yes. I mean… sure! Of course!” Mark agreed. “Thank you so much!”

“Don’t thank me.” Nicky repeated sternly, but Mark could see his eyes twinkling. “But you’re welcome.”

 

*****

 

Mark tidied himself slowly, wiping the cum off his stomach with a wet cloth. His latest had just left, an older gentleman named Peter who he’d known for about two years through Bryan. Mark was pretty sure he was married – he’d spotted the white, bare indentation on his finger where a ring would have normally sat – but that was hardly any of his business. The things that concerned him was that Peter liked to be top, liked to do it missionary, and liked to suck cock. Nothing difficult, but important things to remember if he was going to please Peter enough to keep him coming back for more.

He discarded the cloth into a bucket and stood, tugging his boxers back on. He picked up the bucket again and exited the room, turning the ‘do not disturb’ sign on his door back around, indicating that the room wasn’t being used for business, and closed the door again. The sign on room 2 was also turned around and he knocked lightly.

“Come in!”

Mark pushed open the door, smiling as he saw Kian, completely naked, wiping his face.

“Hi. Rag run.”

“Here.” Kian tossed him the dirty rag, and a couple of others. “Maid duty, eh?”

Mark nodded, glancing furtively at Kian’s naked body. It was no wonder Nicky kept him on – the young man was absolutely gorgeous. Muscular and golden, his short blonde hair bleached to perfection. And hell… he was hung, too.

“Want to take a picture?”

“Erm… sorry.” Mark blushed. “Just… y’know.”

“Weighing up the competition?” Kian looked Mark up and down. “I’m glad to say there isn’t any.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you have work to do.”

Mark rolled his eyes, stalking back out of the room. Kian was an absolute twat, plain and simple. He didn’t understand how Nicky or Shane could possibly stand to have him in the house, or how he could possibly have any clients at all, a prick like that. He’d known the bloke for a little over six hours and already couldn’t stand him.

Shane was just leaning out to turn his sign over when Mark walked up. He was already dressed in a baggy t-shirt, but Mark could see slim, hairy legs, strong thighs, and delicate feet, not to mention the soft bulge in his white briefs.

“Hey. Maid duty?”

“That’s the one.” Mark couldn’t help but return Shane’s friendly grin.

“Just a second.” Shane ducked inside, then returned with a handful of cloth which he dropped into the bucket. “I’ll put the bedding out in a minute. How’d your session go?”

“Okay. I’ve known him a couple of years, so it was just… y’know… going through the motions. You?”

“Fairly new guy. He wasn’t bad, actually. I’ve not had him before, but Kian has. Nothing personal to Ki, I think the guy was just looking for a bit of variety.”

Mark nodded. “Well… I’ll be back in a minute for your sheets.”

He went back downstairs to the laundry, which was out the back of the house in a small alcove, tipped the rags in on top of the others, and then made his way back upstairs to strip his own bed. The sheets weren’t too soiled, but you didn’t really want someone else’s cum on them to remind you of exactly where you were and who you were fucking. That was from the client’s point of view, of course. Mark knew where he was and who he was fucking – it was better that way. The last thing he wanted was surprises.

He shivered slightly, then shrugged off the feeling of rough fingers on him. But now was not the time.

He dumped the sheets on the floor and set about remaking the bed with new linen. The new sheets were exactly the same as the old ones, except for a small stain. Mark made sure they were turned over so the stain wasn’t visible. He remade the bed neatly, then picked up the dirty ones and made his way along to Shane’s room first, not feeling like he wanted to face Kian quite yet.

The sheets were already there, and Mark was about to go inside to make the bed, but Shane turned and grinned at him from where he was already fluffing the pillows and putting them into place.

“Hey… I can do that…” Mark protested.

“Don’t worry.” Shane replied. “It’s no trouble. I always did it when we had a proper maid anyway.”

Mark thanked him and picked up the pile of sheets outside Shane’s room, moving down to Kian’s room. The room was empty, he saw when he opened the door, and the bed made tightly. With the dirty sheets underneath.

Mark couldn’t help but growl, and he stormed across the floor, yanking the blankets hard to undo the studious hospital corners. The sheets were tucked in just as tightly and covered in cum, which was now sticking to the blankets as well. Mark groaned. Now he’d have to get a new duvet cover as well as new sheets.

He did the job quickly, grinding his teeth the whole time. But when he came downstairs it was with a sunny smile on his face. He grinned at Kian, winked, and refused to snarl when the blonde scowled it him. He was not going to let Kian get to him, he promised himself.

The rest of the day passed quite quickly. There weren’t that many clients for any of them, so he spent most of the day hanging out in the living room, either reading a book or chatting to Shane. Kian came in sometimes, but was mostly silent, and spent most of the free time in Nicky’s office, probably complaining. Shane rolled his eyes at that.

It was soon five o’clock, when the rush was apparently due to begin. Mark was used to it. The shady, married clients snuck in intermittently during the day, but it was at night that all the lonely or horny folks decided to pop down for a bit of a shag, as had been his experience. There were no new clients, just regulars, but not even that many of those. Mark was surprised – he was used to seeing a lot more traffic. But then Nicky had mentioned problems…

Kian had two clients that night, Shane had three, and Mark had one, a bloke called (ironically enough) John, who always took him from behind and made Mark beg for it, as though Mark was really all that hard up. John came, John left. Mark had some tea and did the rest of the laundry. Kian and Shane both went home.

Nicky showed him to Room 4.

“You alright in here for now?” Nicky asked, standing in the door while Mark sat cross-legged on the bed, glancing around himself. This room was the same as the others, but with a south-facing window that looked onto the small back garden.

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

“Okay, well I’m going to do some paperwork, so don’t worry if you hear me moving around downstairs.” Nicky explained. He’d been quite impressed by Mark today. He was a good worker, and hadn’t complained once - which had been a great relief considering what little Nicky knew about Mark’s reasons for leaving Bryan - not to mention he seemed to get on quite well with Shane. He was a nice kid.

“Okay.”

“You have an alright day?”

“It was fine. Thanks.” Mark smiled, biting his lip at the same time. “I really like your place.”

“Me too.” Nicky agreed. “Which is why I need to go do all this paperwork now. Need to dodge the tax man, don’t I?”

“Don’t let me keep you. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“You’d better. I don’t pay you for sleeping in that bed.” Nicky meant it to sound firm, but Mark chuckled.

“Not sleeping, no.” He agreed. “Goodnight, Nicky. And thanks again.”

“I told you not to thank me, kid. But you’re welcome all the same.” Nicky began to shut the door. “Goodnight.” He added a moment before the door clicked shut.


	3. Wednesday

Mark came down the next morning after a restless sleep. He had never been able to sleep in new places, and there had been no TV in his room. He always liked to keep the TV on while he slept. His iPod had proved a poor substitute.

“Good morning.” Nicky was already at the table, stirring a bowl of cornflakes around disinterestedly.

“Hi.” Mark rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

“You after breakfast?"

Mark nodded. “Yeah. I’d love some caffeine.” He smiled sympathetically while Nicky yawned. “You want a coffee?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Nicky collapsed forward on the table, his face buried in his arms. A few minutes later a steaming mug appeared on the table in front of him. “Thanks.” He repeated, reaching out to stir it with the spoon and staring at the steam rising off it. “Your room okay?”

“Fine.” Mark replied. “Just takes me awhile to get used to sleeping in a new place.” He explained.

“Got plenty of energy?” Nicky asked.

“I’ll muster some up.” Mark assured him, yawning again. He took a tentative sip of his hot coffee, but pulled back quickly. Still too hot. “You get all your paperwork done?” He asked, not sure if that was too forward to ask, but not able to come up with anything else to talk about. Nicky shrugged.

“Yeah, sort of.” He yawned again. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’ll be back to my bastardy self when I’m more awake.”

”You’re not a bastard.”

“I am. Haven’t heard the others? Shane calls me ‘the grump’. And you don’t want to hear what Kian calls me.”

“Kian’s fun.” Mark said, moving the subject away from Nicky’s apparent bastardry.

“Kian’s a self-centred diva.” Nicky laughed. “But I love him.” He glanced at Mark, who was looking at him in surprise, hoping he hadn’t just said something horrible about his boss’s boyfriend. “Not like that.” Nicky corrected him, laughing. “I’ve just known him ages. I’m used to having him around.” He shovelled a spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth, chewed soggily, and swallowed. “You’ll get used to him.”

“I thought I was only staying a week.”

“Trial basis.” Nicky corrected him. “Make me enough money and I’ll happily let you stay, kiddo.”

Silence fell over the table. Mark yawned and sipped his coffee while Nicky opened the paper and began to do the crossword. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Mark felt a little more secure than yesterday – he had a place to live, a potential job… in fact, everything was going okay. Not great, but okay.

A good start.

 

*

 

About ten in the morning all three boys were called into the kitchen. There had been no clients first thing, so they’d started up a game of cards. Shane had won, with Kian a close second, and Mark actually managed to get more out of Kian that a couple of sniped comments. He wasn’t that bad when he was in a good mood, though he still obviously looked at Mark as though he was something of a threat. Mark could understand that, but that didn’t mean he had to like Kian. Or that Kian had to like him, he supposed.

They all trooped into the kitchen where Nicky was sitting, a cup of coffee on the table and a cigarette in one hand. He looked tired, Mark thought.

”New client, lads.” Nicky announced, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Doesn’t know what he wants so we’re going to do a bit of a showing. He’ll be here in half an hour.” He tapped ash into a jar lid on the table. “Best outfits, best behaviour. You lads help Mark out, show him how we work around here.”

“Sure, Nicky.” Kian replied. Mark tried not to gape in surprise. That had sounded almost polite.

“Off you go, then.” Nicky ordered, turning back to his coffee and cigarette.

Mark couldn’t be certain, but as he left the room he thought he heard a deep, melancholy sigh.

 

*

 

Nicky took another drag of his cigarette and sighed again, blowing out gusts of smoke. He didn’t understand what was wrong with him. He’d felt so bloody depressed and tired for the last few weeks. Normally things didn’t get to him like this, he’d just keep powering on, but recently he’d felt more and more down, and it was affecting his sleep. Numbers and sums had danced in his head for hours before he’d managed to drop off, and were dotted all throughout his dreams, as though he couldn’t even get some respite in his sleep. He didn't even smoke, not really, not for years, and yet he'd managed to plough through two packets in the last week.

There was giggling from upstairs and he glanced up at the ceiling, smiling. At least he had his boys, he supposed. They were his employees, sure, but they were good for a laugh and they kept him company, even if he couldn’t call them ‘friends’ exactly.

There was another loud laugh from upstairs. Shane. Nicky laughed along with them, even though he knew they couldn’t hear him. He shook his head, stubbing the cigarette out in the jar lid on the table. It was stupid to behave like this. He was just their bastard of an employer, wasn’t he?

He stood up and set about doing the dishes. It didn’t take long, but he’d only just sat down when there were heavy footfalls on the stairs and the three boys appeared in his kitchen again.

He was ready to compliment them all, and it was on the tip of his tongue until the third of the lads passed through the door. His tongue promptly tied itself in a knot and lodged in his throat, and he tried not to gape as Mark stood in front of him.

It was the jeans that got him first – tight faded jeans that were almost painted onto Mark’s thick, muscular thighs, tempting licking and biting. They were tight around his arse as well, showing off a rounded, sexy bottom and the thick bulge stuffed into the denim.

Nicky swallowed as his eyes moved up, taking in the white shirt that sat tight over Mark’s chest, showing off suckable nipples and a slightly rounded, soft belly. A little tuft of dark hair was visible where the top two buttons should have been done up. Nicky licked his lips.

“Great, lads.” He said, even though he hadn’t actually spared a glance for either Shane or Kian. He trusted them. They’d be fine. And all of a sudden he couldn’t take his eyes off Mark. “Very nice.”

“Thanks Nicky.” Kian replied, blushing slightly and looking down at himself. “You like the new top?”

“Yeah. It’s fabulous.” Nicky grinned, forcing himself to look at Kian who was, indeed, wearing a new top. It looked hot on him, too. But hell, Kian wasn’t the one making Nicky embarrassingly hard. He forced his gaze over to Shane as well, who grinned at him, looking gorgeous as usual, his eyes filled with a friendly sparkle. “Good job, lads.” Nicky added. “Okay, you’ve got ten minutes then before he arrives, so do whatever. Just make sure you’re back on time.”

The three nodded and filed out of the room, though Nicky couldn’t help a last glance at Mark’s round, perfect arse. Fuck, whoever didn’t want to shag him must be completely insane. For the first time he thought that maybe – and this was a big maybe – he had been right in hiring Mark.

Upstairs, Mark was wandering down the hall on his way to the loo, wanting to get one quick pee in before he was forced to do without. Or ‘in case’, rather, because there were Shane and Kian to compete against here. Not that he liked competing, particularly, but this was about his income, and he felt bad staying here on Nicky’s money. It wasn’t fair on his employer (especially when he’d been so accommodating of Mark) to be mooching off him and Mark wanted to get out as soon as possible, find his own place to live.

He heard footsteps behind him, but didn’t think anything of it until the air was forced from his lungs and he hit the wall, his shoulder making a nasty thud and blazing with sudden pain.

Kian just kept walking past. “Don’t take what’s mine.” He said quietly.

Mark gasped for a moment, putting his hand on his shoulder until the pain died down and his heart stopped hammering. It hadn’t really hurt all that much, it was more the shock of being attacked so suddenly from behind.

“Fuck you.” He muttered under his breath, pushing away from the wall and giving the closed toilet door the finger.

Kian didn’t come out until exactly ten minutes later, by which time Nicky was already calling them downstairs. Mark growled at him as he passed, but Kian only turned and raised a patronising eyebrow before walking on, skipping quickly down the stairs. Mark ran in and did the quickest pee of all time – he was busting now – and then ran downstairs to find the others waiting for him.

“What took you so long?” Nicky asked, looking accusingly at him. Mark felt himself flush.

“I had to use the bathroom.” He mumbled, sitting down on the couch next to Shane and not looking at Nicky, who was standing in front of them. “Sorry.”

Nicky ignored him. “Punter’s coming in a few minutes.” He was looking at Mark again. He was doing that a lot this morning, Mark had noticed. “He hasn’t requested anyone, so we’ll have to do a bit of a parade. Depending on what he wants of course.”

“Okay.” There was a knock on the front door, a hesitant, nervous sort of knock. Nicky went to answer.

“Brunette.” Shane whispered.

“Blonde.” Kian responded. Mark looked between the two of them.

“Huh?”

“Bet he’s a brunette.” Shane explained quickly, giggling when Kian nudged him. “Cos brunette’s are better looking, right Mark?”

“Oh, definitely.” Mark nodded seriously, snorting his laughter as the two men nudged and pushed each other. Kian bumped into his side, still laughing quietly, but Mark felt a persistent hardness in the nudge. “But there’s gotta be some exceptions, right Ki?”

Kian didn’t look like he knew how to react to Mark’s congenial smile “Er… right.” He muttered. Mark patted his shoulder.

“After all, Nicky’s quite the looker.”

Shane covered his mouth to stifle laughter again as Kian scowled again.

“Good one.” He muttered, just as Nicky called their names.

“Shane, love? Could I get you in here for a second?”

Alone again together. Oh didn’t Mark just love being alone with Kian?

 

*

 

Out in the hall, Nicky was holding three pricelists and talking to the new client who had just come in. He was only young, this one, didn't even look eighteen, though he was two years older than that. Skittish, too, but cute, in a myopic, pimple-scarred kind of way. Virgin territory, Nicky suspected.

“This is Shane.” Nicky introduced him as Shane appeared in the doorway, dressed in his characteristic jeans and t-shirt. Shane liked to play the easygoing country boy, which wasn’t too far a stretch considering he was one. “Shane, this is Jeffrey.”

“Hi Jeffrey.” The two men shook hands, Shane caressing the younger man’s fingers longer than was necessary and dropping a wink. Jeffrey blushed.

As Shane flirted to his fullest potential, Nicky glanced back over his shoulder into the other room. Kian and Mark were sitting on opposite ends of the couch. While the younger man was fidgeting and looking awkwardly around the room, Kian was blatantly avoiding him, staring in the opposite direction with his arms crossed. Nicky sighed. Kian could be such a ruthless diva when he was feeling cranky, though Nicky suspected it was more to do with insecurity than anything. Mark was quite gorgeous after all.

Nicky sighed again. Mark. Talk about a fucking drama. If the lad wasn’t so bloody cute…

“It was nice to meet you Jeffrey.” Shane was smiling shyly now, but Nicky could feel a hand on his back, pointedly trying to wake him out of the stupor he’d drifted into. Apparently he’d been drifting for quite some time.

“Yeah.” The lad replied as dazedly as Nicky felt. “Yeah, you too.”

“Hope to see you soon.” Shane grinned, then disappeared.

Nicky glanced back at the two lads in the living room. Kian was beginning to fidget as well now and, while Nicky was still fairly annoyed with his recent behaviour, he suppose he did owe it Kian to give him a first chance at this one. Kian had been with him forever, after all, and Nicky did have a lot of respect for the blonde.

Mark looked up, smiling nervously at Nicky when he caught his employer looking at him. Nicky smiled back thinly, then looked over at Kian.

“Kian?

“Coming!” Kian called, standing up and striding over to the hall. “Hi there…” Mark heard him say, before Shane sat back down next to him and began whispering.

“He’ll be a smug fuck now. It’s a blonde.”

Mark snorted. “What’s he look like?”

“Virginal.” Shane leant back on the couch. “Scared as hell, but not because he’s cheating on someone. Can’t be more than nineteen, and so shy.”

“In the closet, probably.” Mark replied. “Can’t pick up in public, not too sure about his sexuality, wants to test things out…”

“Exactly.” Shane agreed. “That type.” Then he laughed quietly. “Gotta feel for the kid – I remember being like that.”

“What… virginal?”

“Nah, I barely remember that.” Shane giggled. “Closeted, like.”

“Oh right.” Mark nodded, craning his neck and trying to see round the corner. Nicky glanced at him again, and Mark smiled guiltily. He saw Nicky almost laugh, and smiled even broader.

“Don’t do that.” Shane murmured. Mark started.

“Huh?”

“Flirt with the boss. Bad idea.”

“I’m not…” Mark trailed off. He hadn’t, had he? Though sometimes he did get flirty without realising – it was a hazard of the job. “I was just trying to see whatshisface.”

“Jeffrey.” Shane pursed his lips, looking as though he were about to pursue his earlier train of thought. Then he shrugged. “Kian’s tried it. Not good.”

“Really? Kian and Nicky?”

“No: not Kian and Nicky. That’s the problem.” Shane sighed. “Look, Nicky’s nice and all, and I can see why you’d be into him, but it’s just not something you wanna try. Really.”

“Okay.” Mark shrugged. “I’ll keep that in mind if I ever find myself attracted to him.”

Shane snorted. “Okay, whatever. But he keeps looking at you, and you keep looking at him. That’s all I know.”

“We only just met. I’m still trying to figure out what he wants. And anyway, he’s probably trying to figure out whether I’m a good investment or not.”

Shane smiled. “You probably are.” He conceded. “I could say a lot of things about Bryan, but he does know how to pick ‘em.”

Before Mark could reply, he heard his name called and looked up. Nicky was waving vaguely at him as Kian passed, a smug look on his face. Standing up, Mark smiled sunnily at the smaller man and made his way quickly over to Nicky.

 

*

 

Mark was good, Nicky would give him that. Before he’d even smiled at the client the charm had been on, in the way he walked, the way he moved and the way he’d blinked coyly at the young man standing in the hallway. Nicky didn’t know what he’d been expecting, to be honest. Mark was a bit shy, but seemed to be so aware of it that Nicky had to wonder if his shyness was an act.

He remembered the way Mark had blushed and stammered on their first meeting.

No. Mark just knew how to use what he had. Which was… well… quite a lot.

When Mark had disappeared back into the living room, Nicky took the client aside to discuss prices, but he already knew what the outcome would be.

Kian would be bloody furious.

 

*

 

“Is there anything you want before we start?” Mark asked. He was usually more flirty than this, but the lad looked nervous as a kitten and Mark didn’t want to scare him off. Shane was probably right. A virgin. His suspicions were confirmed a few moments later.

“I’ve er… never done anything like this before…”

Mark tried not to show any reaction. Instead he smiled, sitting down beside the kid… Jeffrey… on the bed, letting their thighs touch. Jeffrey was a little taller than him and had quite bad skin, along with glasses which kept slipping down his nose, even though he pushed them up. The glasses weren’t bad – certainly not coke-bottles or anything – but they made him look even more inexperienced and young.

“That’s alright.”

“I mean… I’m not gay or anything.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Uh…” Jeffrey stammered. “I… I don’t know if I can… do this, like. Sorry, this was a stupid idea. My dad would kill me if he found out…”

“I’m hardly going to tell him.”

“I know. I uh… you must hate this, huh? Like, shagging weirdos like me.”

“Nah.” Mark smiled, shuffling closer, his arm slipping round the lad’s waist. “Anyway, you’re pretty cute.”

“Really?” The kid blushed. Mark had to resist the urge not to ruffle his hair. He glanced at the clock. If anything was going to get done they were going to have to move it along. The kid would pay anyway, but shagging could mean regular customers, or at least a referral. And Mark did want to make a good impression. He only had a week after all.

“Sure.” His hand nudged at the hem of the client’s shirt, and he felt Jeffrey shiver.

“You look a lot like a friend of mine.”

Mark nodded, shifting closer and unable to hide a smile at the whispered admission Jeffrey had made. A blowjob and a fuck. That was what Jeffrey had paid for. Forty-five minutes. The small-talk was free. And hell, this kid was already hard as a rock.

Mark smiled, shuffling in closer and breathing against his client’s ear.

 

*

 

“Norman!” Kian couldn’t stop laughing as they sat at the kitchen table later that day, a deck of cards spread out between them. “I can’t believe you got called Norman for half an hour! That’s bloody brilliant!”

Mark couldn't help laughing back. It had been pretty hard to stop laughing through the whole process, if he was honest, though having Jeffrey's dick in his mouth had definitely helped muffle it. He'd managed to mostly pass it off as a hummer. The kid didn't seem to want eye-contact anyway, which Mark supposed was fair. He had seemed pretty enamoured of whoever Norman was.

Jeffrey and Norman. They sounded like animated animal sidekicks in a straight-to-video Disney sequel. Pigs, probably.

Though Jeffrey had squealed pretty hard, there at the end.

Kian thumped a fist down on the table, his whole body shaking with laughter. Mark grinned, picking up a glass of water and sipping. He quite wanted a coffee, but he'd already gone to the bathroom and had a clean up and didn't really want to have to repeat the process once the coffee hit the bottom. Shit, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a big meal on a work day.

“What's going on in here?”

Nicky was leant in the doorway, a coffee in his hand. Mark was instantly jealous.

“Oh god, Nicky, you've got to hear this!” Kian exclaimed.

“I'd love to, but a bit quieter, yeah?” Nicky pointed at the ceiling. “Shane's working.”

Kian at least had the decency to blush. Mark sat back in his chair, playing with his glass. Nicky didn't seem angry, just disappointed. And god, there was a flashback to his mother. Except Nicky didn't look like his mother.

 

*

 

Nicky smiled at them both. He had just checked in on Shane, who was fine. There were nanny cams in all the rooms, emergency buttons under the lamps. He liked to take a glance at least twice, right at the beginning and again at about the half-way point, just to make sure everyone was fine. It was a trick he'd taken up from Bryan, who had shared it with him when they'd been sat around drunk one night, comparing notes. They hadn't done that in a while. Nicky had been far too busy, and if he was honest he missed having someone to talk to, someone familiar with what he was going through. It wasn't like he could go to his mam's house and have a two hour bitch-session about the cost of bulk-buying lubricant.

He also probably wouldn't have admitted that he'd looked in on Mark more than twice. Not that he'd been sitting there watching the whole thing, but he'd... maybe had an extra glance when Mark had sat on the kid's fairly unimpressive cock, his hands spreading his own cheeks, eyes closed and face tilting up to ceiling. Then, even though the kid would have been way too shy to say he wanted it, Mark had flipped them over and guided the kid back in, let him take him from behind, push Mark's face into the pillow.

It had been fucking masterful.

Kian's laughter had switched to quiet giggles that shook his shoulders.

“Mark got called Norman for half an hour!”

“When?” Nicky sat down, confused. Mark grinned at him.

“Just... that kid Jeffrey?” Nicky nodded. “I think he had somebody else in mind at the time.”  
  
“Ah.” Nicky leant back in his seat, studying the both of them. “Did you let him?”

Mark nodded, laughing. “Yeah.”

“Good work.” Nicky nodded. Kian had stopped laughing now, was looking between the both of them. Kian didn't live in a world of tact. He lived in a world of aggressive, predatory sex that was – and Nicky was being honest with himself here – really really fucking hot. It was what Kian's clients came for. Shane was good at friendly, rolling around, giggling sex. Mark appeared to have a skill too. “You sold the fantasy. He might even be back, if we're lucky.”

“I just...” Mark shrugged. Nicky didn't miss the look Kian was still giving both of them, but didn't have time for it now. Kian being in a strop was not a novelty. “It's what he paid for. I wasn't gonna stop him.”

Nicky stood back up, heading over to switch the kettle on. He put a hand on Kian's shoulder as he passed. Kian settled almost immediately. “Kian, you've got Nev here in twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, I know.” Kian yawned. “He pay extra?”

“Yep, so go suit up. Call if you need help with the straps. Order's on your door if you need details. Cup of tea, Mark?” Mark shook his head. Nicky nodded. He understood. “Shane should be done in about ten minutes. How are you doing?” He could hear Kian's feet tromping up the stairs.

“I'm okay.”

“Is Kian giving you any crap?”

“No. Yes. Maybe.” Mark sighed, running his fingers around the rim of his empty glass. “I don't know. I'd rather sort it out myself, if you don't mind? I don't want him thinking I'm hiding behind the boss.”

“Okay.” The kettle clicked off. “I appreciate your professionalism.” Nicky poured a coffee and sat back down, studying Mark. Bryan had been right, he was really losing out on something, getting rid of him. Mark was still wearing the same jeans from before and a clean t-shirt. “I've had a call. One of your regulars is coming down.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

“Tom. He said his last name was Smith, but I doubt it. He asked to pay cash for the usual. Wouldn't tell me what it was.”

Mark sighed, leaning back in his chair. It was a good view. “You're gonna want to stock the room with plenty of tissues, then.” Nicky raised an eyebrow. Just how many times was this guy going to come? Mark caught his look. Gave him a smile. “Er... he'll pay for sex, but honestly he's probably just going to cry for half an hour then show me pictures of his grandkids. He's got some guilt issues.”

Nicky raised the other eyebrow. He had heard of the emotional prostitution thing, sure. Clients paying for cuddles. Some people got off on it, whatever. This was a whole other thing.

“Does he always...?”

“Yeah. I just don't think he has anyone to talk to. It's a generational thing. Like, he's not great at the internet, and he's too scared his family will find out, so he just. Yeah. I dunno. He reminds me a bit of my uncle.”

“Except for the sex.”

Mark shook his head “I think we only actually did anything the one time. He's getting on a bit, so sometimes I'll get my kit off so he can have a grope, but it's not really about that.”

“What does he pay for?”

“Whatever you like. Sometimes he'll just pay flat hourly, or chuck in a little bit extra if he's feeling really guilty.”

“You don't mind?”

“Nah.” Mark stood up to refill his glass from the sink. Nicky could hear Shane upstairs, closing the door. Nicky knew he should go out, farewell the client properly, but he was fascinated now.

“How come?”

“I'm here to make him feel better. If it's chatting that'll do it, well at least I get an hour with my clothes on. He's nice, and he's hurting. It's not up to me to decide what he needs.”

Mark drained his glass, scooped up his bucket and laundry bag on the way to the door. Nicky shook his head, amazed.

 

*

 

Mark was humming to himself while he stripped Shane's bed. It was the dangers of going to bed with his iPod on – getting some song stuck in his head. Though it was better than waking up with the jingles to early morning infomercials. He hadn't felt comfortable sleeping in the quiet for a while now. He knew it was silly, knew that what had happened was pretty bloody tiny considering what he did for a living, but it had completely rocked all his preconceptions of what was supposed to happen. People paid him to fuck, yeah, but he always had some sort of control over it, even when he was strapped down. The handcuffs had quick-release, the ropes were generally tear-away in case of accidents. But bootlaces didn't have automatic releases when you were tied to the pipe under the sink and some bloke was punching the living hell out of you while he fucked you.

His bruises had healed quickly, though there was a scar under his hair where he'd cracked it on the edge of the toilet. Well, he hadn't cracked it, it had been cracked for him.

He realised he'd stopped humming.

He started up again, forcing away the shiver running up his back, trying to distract himself.

Shane's bed was remade quickly. He sent a quick thank-you to his mam for teaching him hospital corners when he was little, a skill he'd doubted would ever come in handy. He plumped the pillows a few times, lingering over the job. Yeah, his mam would be super impressed.

 

*

 

A few hours later, Nicky watched the monitor as Mark put his arms around an old bloke, pressing his lips to white hair and rubbing his hands up and down a heaving back. He almost felt guilty for watching. He was never guilty, not even when he'd checked in on Kian an hour ago, wrists strapped to ankles and taking it like a bloody champion. That was just business.

What the hell was with this kid?


	4. Thursday

The day dawned bright and clear, the overcast clouds from the last few days brushed away by a light summer wind. Mark stood in front of his window, letting the breeze caress him. It was still early. He couldn't hear anything from downstairs, so Nicky must not even be awake yet. He could bloody go a coffee, though.

The whole house was empty. Mark had a quick sweep of the kitchen, tidied away the dishes, then headed out the front door in his boxers to grab the paper. The door to the office was slightly ajar, so he pushed in, intending to leave it on Nicky's desk.

Nicky was fast asleep, head pillowed on a haphazard pile of papers.

Mark stood in the doorway for a moment, torn between waking Nicky and just letting him sleep. But he could hear the quiet beeping of an alarm clock in the other room and suspected that Nicky would be less impressed at oversleeping than he would be about being woken. He ducked his head into the other room first to hit the snooze on the alarm. He didn't want to turn the damn thing off and break it, but at least if it was on snooze Nicky could reset it himself.

Nicky's bedroom was pretty sparse. Despite the bed not having been slept in, it was unmade, the blue blankets in a pile on the floor. Otherwise there was just a plain chest of drawers with a couple of books stacked on top and a laundry basket. And that was it. No photos or pictures on the walls, no knick knacks, not even a throw cushion to liven things up.

Mark popped back into the office just as Nicky was stirring. He had a post-it stuck to his cheek. Mark smiled and reached out to peel it gently from his cheek. It had 'fuck it' written on in messy block letters.

“Sorry, must've fallen asleep.” Nicky rubbed his eyes. Yawned. Blinked blearily at Mark. “I was just doing the accounts.”

“You get much sleep?” Mark asked. Nicky just shrugged, reaching out for a half-empty cup of cold coffee. He took a sip. Pulled a face. “You want me to get you a fresh one?”

“Only if you're making one.” Nicky yawned again, stretching his arms behind his head. He winced, hand rubbing his neck. “Urgh, I slept wrong.” He began to sort through his pillow of papers, pulling a face when he found one with a patch of drool on it. Mark left him to it and headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on. He was returning with coffee when he heard the snooze alarm go off again. The shower was running in the other room, so he poked his head back into the bedroom.

“Nicky, I brought your coffee. You want me to turn off the oh...” Mark stammered to a stop, realising Nicky had neglected to close the bathroom door. He blushed, turned around to put the mug down on Nicky's chest of drawers. “Sorry, didn't realise.”  
  
“It's fine.” Nicky turned off the shower. When Mark turned back, he was wrapped in a towel.

Nicky was fit.

Well, yeah, Mark had figured. He filled out his shirts well enough but Mark hadn't expected him to be this toned and smooth, to have almost gingery blonde hair on his chest and legs, and a slim waist and hips that weren't done justice by any clothes. Mark swallowed, heading back toward the door.

“I'll let you get dressed.”

“It's fine.” Nicky said again. He reached into the chest of drawers to grab a plain green shirt, buttoning it over his chest. “Seriously. I think I've been naked with more people than I can count. You know all about that.” He laughed quietly, dropping the towel to step into a pair of boxers. And shit, Nicky was _hung_. “I know I'm an old man, but I've not been retired that long.”

“I didn't know you used to...” He was edging back into the room now, his curiosity piqued.

“Yeah, well.” Nicky pulled up a pair of nice dress jeans. “It's been a few years.”

“Why'd you stop? If you don't mind me asking?” Nicky was awfully young to be out of the business – he couldn't be more than two years older than Mark himself, and it wasn't like he wasn't still fit. Or hung. Shit, Mark thought he was a bit jealous.

“I dunno. It wasn't...” Nicky laughed. “...I was going to say it wasn't fun any more, but then it never really was. It wasn't awful. It was just a job, but I was out on my own and I wanted something better than that. Somewhere a bit more settled. And this is really the only business I know anything about, so I figured... Well.”

“Do you miss it?” Mark asked. He quite liked his job. Yeah, it wasn't something he could send out about on the family Christmas letter, but his parents knew and while they didn't much like it, they weren't exactly unsupportive. The money definitely helped get over that hurdle and, as Mark was quick to point out, there were a lot of worse ways he could be spending his time, and a lot less lucrative ways he could be doing it.

“No, not really.” Nicky smiled weakly, picking up his coffee. He glanced at the alarm clock. “Shit, is that the time?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Mark realised he'd sat down on the bed. He stood up again, heading back toward the door. “Sorry. I got distracted. I'll go finish the tidying.”

“Thanks.” Nicky turned back toward the bathroom. “Oh, and Mark?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you, kid. Even if it turns out I can't keep you here. Don't take it personally, yeah?”

 

*

 

It was Kian's day off. A small blessing on a personal front, not so much on a professional. But Mark had seven (seven!) booked in for today, so Nicky couldn't say he was all that disappointed. On a very good day Shane and Kian would only get five or six each, and that was like bloody Christmas when it happened.

Six old clients, one new one. Nicky was almost inclined to give Bryan a ring, find out exactly how many regular clients Mark had. The selfish part of him was inclined not to, in case Bryan decided to take Mark back.

If this kept up, the utilities bills would be up to date within a month. Then he could stop getting threatening letters about turning off the water and power. Candlelight was romantic and all, but not exactly a permanent décor choice.

He'd relocated from his office about an hour beforehand to sit in the kitchen with Shane for lunch, sick of staring at the never-ending stack of paper on his desk. He'd pop back in in a moment to check the cameras, but Mark had seemed remarkably unconcerned by this particular client, a thirty-something bloke that (in Nicky's humble opinion) didn't exactly need to pay for sex. Not that it was his place to judge – the guy was married, maybe, or had some hang-up he didn't feel comfortable with. Or shit, maybe the guy just liked fucking. They'd been laughing together when Mark had led him up the stairs, Jonah mentioning something about 'liking the new place'. He'd not paid for anything particularly weird, something he couldn't get from the other boys. He'd asked to bottom, but Mark had even declined the Viagra Nicky had offered.

“Mark's doing well.”

“Hmm?” Nicky looked up. He'd been so lost in his own thoughts he'd forgotten Shane was even in the room. “Sorry, what?”

“Mark's doing well.” Shane was eating a sandwich Nicky didn't remember him making.

Nicky nodded. “Yeah, he is.”

“Brought lots of people from Bryan's.” Shane pushed the rest of the first half into his mouth, wiped some errant peanut butter from his lip, then stood up to refill his glass with water. “They must get busy over there.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess.” Nicky sighed. Of course they did. Bryan's was a fucking empire. He had twelve different guys on a regular day, plus the escorting. A line-up at Bryan's place was like walking into a fucking strip club. He was doing very well for himself, despite what Bryan said about money being tight.

“Do you reckon he's hiring? Just... er... a mate of mine was interested.”  
  
“Was your mate sick of working for me?” Nicky studied Shane, who at least had the decency to blush.

“No, not really. He was just... like, maybe looking for a bit of work on the side. He's almost finished uni and wants to pay off his student loans. Maybe travel a bit.”  
  
“I guess I can't blame him for that.” Nicky sat back in his chair, feeling angry tears prick his eyes. “Fuck it, I'm letting your mate down, aren't I? I'm sorry, Shane. I really am trying here, but I'm running out of ways to...” He shook his head. “I dunno. Maybe I should get back into it. Go crawling back to Bryan's with my cock tucked between my legs.”

“I don't think you'd get much work that way.” Shane joked. Nicky felt himself give Shane a weak smile in return. It was easy to talk around the darker boy. Nicky had sensed that from the first, when Shane had bounced in ten minutes early for his interview, a big open, excited smile on his face. Yeah, sometimes he was a bit vague, and he was the worst for stealing from the fridge, but Nicky couldn't deny the fact that Shane was a massive part of his life. They'd gone clubbing together, in the early days, before Nicky had gotten all grown-up and serious. He'd had other boys, and he knew Shane wasn't going to be here forever, but he didn't miss the others like he suspected he'd miss Shane. “Do you want me to take a look at the books for you?”

Nicky rested his head on the table, closing his eyes. He felt so fucking tired.

“I have an accountant.” He did. Some bloke he saw every six months or so for taxes. Nicky handed him the bundle of receipts, he did some typing, Nicky was still broke at the end of it. It was the damn business he was in, he supposed. You couldn't exactly deduct the wear-and-tear of ribbed condoms as a work expense, subsidise the constant medical and STD checks. Not that he was going to start skimping on that stuff to save money. If he'd been working for someone that had started letting the clients bareback them, he'd be out the door. “Anyway, I don't pay you to have to do my accounts for me.”

“Call it an investment in my future.” Shane put a hand on his shoulder. It was nice. “You can give me a good reference when I go for a job. I can be the cool guy who did the books for the rentboys.”

“How about the guy who worked as one?”  


“Nah, apparently you can't do sums if you take it up the arse. Well known fact.” Shane grinned. “Come on. You should probably check on Mark.”

Nicky glanced at the clock. Yeah. Probably.

 

*

 

“Well, shit.” Shane said. Nicky had turned on the monitor for a few seconds, just to make sure everything was up-to-code. That had been about five minutes ago, and neither of them had reached for the off switch yet. It was like watching an artist work. When they'd switched on, Mark had been standing next to the bed, Jonah pulled up on his knees in front and just being... taken. Yeah, fucking was fine, but it was the look on his goddamn face, his hands clenching on the sheets, grappling at them when Mark bent forward, hooked his arms under Jonah's armpits and yanked him back against Mark's chest, his head lolling on Mark's shoulder while the younger boy fisted his cock. He'd moved forward, both of them kneeling on the bed while Mark pulled him up into a crouch, spreading his legs wide open. The look on the client's face was beyond shattered. Mark wasn't even touching his cock any more, was just holding those thighs open as wide as they'd go, biting at his neck.

Nicky's hand hit the off-switch on the monitor. It felt like it was attached to someone else's arm.

“Shit.” Shane said again. When Nicky turned back, his employee's eyes were hooded, his jeans displaying his obvious arousal. “Um... I don't know if I'm impressed or feeling seriously inadequate.”

“Or something else.” Nicky gave him a lecherous wink, but it felt half-hearted. Shane gave him a hollow laugh back, then turned toward the computer, running his hand lightly over the keyboard for a moment, not saying anything. “I wouldn't worry Shane. They're regular clients. He probably already knows what they want.”

“Yeah, I guess. Shit, I don't even know that many clients that would let me do that sort of thing. That's a lot of power to give up when you're paying for it.”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded. It was. Except for the bondage crowd, which he didn't particularly cater to anyway, most of the clients were there to fuck, to pay for something they couldn't get at home. To take control maybe. They owned a person for an allotted period of time. The rest was just ticking boxes.

Except Mark had  _ owned _ that guy. Nicky had a feeling that neither of them were coming until Mark intended them to.

They were still both staring blankly into space when the client came back downstairs. Nicky wished him a good day, then headed back to the office to check on Shane. He could hear Mark pottering about in the upstairs hallway, probably sorting the laundry, then the shower going on. And there was another one of Nicky's expenses. The constant fucking showering.

Shane was clicking around, opening a bunch of files. Nicky pointed at where all the bills and receipts were, the cheques, the payments, the stock orders. Went back to sit in the kitchen, returning his head to its earlier spot on the table.

 

*

 

When Mark went into the office to look for Nicky, he was surprised to find Shane sitting behind the desk, his brow furrowed, one hand clicking away at the mouse, the other rested on one of four neat stacks of paper.

“Oh, sorry.” Shane looked up from the computer, gave him a surprised smile with... something else under it. Something tightlipped and guarded. He attempted a friendly smile back. “I was just looking for Nicky.”

“I think he's in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” Mark was about to go, but lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching Shane's bent head. “Um.” Shane looked up again.

“Yeah?”

“No. Nothing.” Mark shook his head, not sure what he'd been about to say. All he knew was the atmosphere of the room seemed to be suddenly chilly and he wanted to break it badly. Obviously it hadn't worked.

Nicky was slumped across the kitchen table, snoring lightly to himself. The rest of the place was empty. Mark didn't have any more clients for another half-hour. He generally liked to have a bit longer between each, just for a bit of relaxation, though he was hardly going to complain if he booked two back-to-back, so long as he got a shower in between.

He knew he should probably be concerned about Nicky's professionalism, maybe wonder if he was on something. But when he looked at Nicky all he could see was rumpled blonde hair, bags under his eyes, and the way that post-it note had stuck sleepily to his face. He was obviously exhausted. He watched Nicky's lips purse in his sleep, the deep lines at the corner of his eyes crinkling, making him look suddenly older. He wanted to reach out, to touch, to maybe comfort him, but instead he stood up and began to make coffee.

The noise of the boiling water must have woken Nicky, because when Mark turned back around with a steaming mug his eyes were open and being rubbed with the heels of both hands. Mark put the coffee down in front of him. Nicky stared at it for a moment, focusing.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “This is turning into a habit.”

Mark didn't know what to say to that, so he just nodded. Nicky looked at the coffee, then at him, pursing his lips.

“What time is it?”

“Two? You were awake when I let Jonah go, so you can't have been asleep for more than five minutes. Are you okay?” He added, thinking maybe he should check. Nicky dropped his gaze back to his coffee. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked.”

“No, it's okay. I'm just tired. I'm sorry, this is really unprofessional.” His fingers drummed on the table, agitated, then pulled his hand away, dropping it into his lap under the table. “You've got a job at two-thirty.”

“I know.” Mark nodded. “Look, it's a regular and I can probably handle it on my own. If you want to go sleep, I mean. If Shane doesn't have a job I'm sure he can check in on me. He probably won't need to anyway.”

He saw Nicky hesitate. Saw him want to agree, slump off to bed. Saw the twitch below his eye, the tired tic that Mark had been seeing all day.

“He's right.” Nicky had already opened his mouth to say no when Shane spoke from the doorway. Mark looked over. Shane was leaned against the frame, his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. He didn't have a job until four, but looked delicious anyway, his hair styled perfectly, fitted shirt tight over his chest. In case of walk-ins, Mark guessed. Not that he'd seen any yet. “You're wrecked.” Shane went on. “I know we're the ones getting fucked, but you look like you've been done upside down for days. Go sleep, man. It'll be fine.”

“No, I...”

“Go.” Shane pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Seriously, Nicky. The clients don't want to look at your face anyway. It'll put them off. We're not going to burn the house down. I'll keep an eye out for trouble, Mark'll deal with his regular. It's clockwork, yeah?”

“I...” Nicky visibly shook himself, took another sip of his coffee, put it down. “Yeah.” Stared at the mug like he didn't know what it was. “Okay, but you have to wake me up in an hour.”

“Two hours.”

“One.”

“One and half. Then you can be pretty for my four o'clock and Mark's four-fifteen. He's got this. I got this. Right? If anything, it's a compliment to your excellent training. Look at us, being independent.”

Mark watched them, studying the exchange between the two boys. They had a rhythm, a give-and-take that made him wonder if it was something more. If he was honest, he'd been wondering that since Shane had first rummaged casually through Nicky's fridge. Was wondering that now when Shane put an arm around Nicky's shoulders to guide him to the bedroom.

Mark took out the paper and began to check the rental listings, circling possible places with a red pen. He missed Bryan's. Missed the excitement and fun, and the security of knowing where you lived and how your day was going to pan out. The company. The routine. Nicky was fine, nice enough, supportive, and definitely easy on the eyes, but Shane seemed to run hot and cold and he couldn't see himself ever warming to Kian.

Maybe it was time to give it up. He couldn't go back to Bryan's, not because he wouldn't be wanted. He knew he'd be asked back in a heartbeat. He could have a different room. But it wouldn't change anything. He'd tried, once the bruises had healed up and he'd gotten back to work. But less than a week later he couldn't manage to connect, had lost that thing that made him like the job in the first place. He liked the clients, he wanted to do what they wanted. That's what Bryan said he liked about him, that he didn't just close his eyes and think of Ireland. That he made it an experience, found what they wanted. Mark had forty-six regular customers, at least thirty more repeat customers. He didn't get picked overwhelmingly during the showings, but his clients definitely came back, had even followed him across town to a new place, but he hadn't been able to find that spark again. All he could do was go through the motions, and once not even that.

Bryan had sat him down. He'd had to offer a refund to the customer, offer one of the other boys at a discount rate. That was fine. Nobody was perfect all the time, and hiccups happened, but Mark couldn't deny the fact that it wasn't the first time he hadn't been able to keep his mind on the job, and wouldn't be the last.

If it was somebody else, maybe they would have just sucked it up and kept working. Mark wasn't somebody else.

He turned his attention back to the newspaper. There were plenty of places nearby, and if he could just hang in here long enough he'd probably be able to get a place by the end of next week. He did had a day off tomorrow, had offered to do groceries for Nicky, but there was no reason he couldn't slip out and check out a few places. He glanced at the clock.

Ivan, a tall, broad Russian with a foot fetish was due in ten minutes. One time Mark had stretched a condom over his foot and shoved toes in his arse while Ivan had mewled into the pillow. It had been an interesting day.

He checked in with Shane, letting him know to send the client up when he was ready. Shane nodded, asking him to leave the office door open so he could hear the doorbell, then bending back over the four piles of paper, one of them now a lot taller than the others. Mark didn't ask. Probably just business.

 

*

 

Shane did not feel at all good about what he was doing. But he'd said he'd check in on Mark, and that's what he'd done. Mark had been standing on a large, hairy Russian man's lower back with one foot, the toes of the other caressing the back of his neck, then dipping around to be sucked into his mouth. He was fine. He had good balance, but he was fine.

So Shane went to turn the camera off.

And then didn't.

Professional interest, maybe. He hadn't done much footwork, so it was nice to see someone with a bit of experience. Take notes, maybe. Take notes on the way Mark removed his foot from the guy's mouth and pivoted around to push it up between his legs, under him, the guy's hips lifting as Mark caressed his balls with his toes.

He heard Nicky stir in the other room and reached out quicker than necessary to minimise the screen, feeling like he'd just been caught looking at porn by his mam.

 

*

 

It was getting dark. Shane was packing up, getting ready to go home. He had a family thing that night, and had asked to bunk off a few hours early to go to his sister's birthday. Nicky didn't mind. They were quiet for the rest of the night – Mark only had one more booking that night, and not until 10pm. Nicky had woken up at 3:30 to find Mark showing his client out the door, getting ready for another one. Nicky honestly didn't know how he had the energy, how he just smiled sunnily and went to clean up. Nicky's desk was in a much more manageable state. There were trays. Labelled trays. Nicky had no idea what was going on with any of it, which was probably a good sign. He didn't normally, anyway, so at least Shane looked like he had a system.

“Don't touch it.” Shane pointed at the trays. “I'll finish it tomorrow.” Nicky had been about to say that it was too much, but the look he got suggested he shouldn't bother. As good as Shane was at fucking, this was where he lived. With numbers and tax and bills and all the other shit that made Nicky's head hurt.

Mark ordered food, taking it out of the cut Nicky had handed him for his last job. Around eight-thirty he handed Nicky a container of Pad Thai, then put his own in the fridge, sitting down across Nicky with the newspaper and a pen.

“You're not eating?”

Mark shook his head. “I'll eat after. I don't want to be all bloated.”

“You've eaten today, though?”

“Yeah. I had a sandwich.” Mark circled something on the paper. “You feeling better?”

Nicky nodded. He was and he wasn't. He'd had a bit of sleep, and if he was honest with himself it was quite comforting knowing he wasn't to touch anything in his office. At the same time, it was terrifying, as though control was slipping through his fingers. He had so little of it left, though his boys kept him going and he was determined not to let them down. He looked up, feeling his tired eyes connect with Mark's bright, lively ones.

“I don't know how you have the energy.”  
  
“Hmmm?” Mark looked up from his paper, pen poised, one eyebrow raised. Nicky shook his head. Fuck, but he liked this kid.

“Energy. You've got it. After four I think I'd be ready for a kip, but you're going for number seven.”

Mark shrugged. “You book the jobs, I'll take 'em.”

“I don't want you getting overworked because you think you owe me.”

“I do owe you, but I honestly don't mind.” Mark smiled, putting down the newspaper. Nicky could see what he was doing now, could see the rental listings. There were red circles all over the place. He knew Mark didn't live here, but the sight made him a little bit sad. It was quite nice, knowing somebody else was in the house. Someone who brought him coffee in the mornings and asked if he was okay. It didn't change his responses, but it was nice just to be asked. “I wouldn't mind a bit longer break between, but I'm not complaining.”

“How long do you like between?”

“Not that long. Forty minutes, maybe. I've got a day off tomorrow, so I'm really not fussed. I'll have a relax then.”

Fuck, but he was just so  _ easygoing _ . If Kian was asked, he'd be asking for two hours off between each gig and a flat rate for waiting around. That's why Nicky didn't ask. Kian wasn't lazy, he just made sure he got everything he thought he was owed. He was hard. Nicky understood. This wasn't a job for pushovers.

“Forty minutes it is, then.” Nicky nodded. “I can't promise with walk-ins, but if I'm making your bookings I'll make sure you have enough time.”

Mark nodded. “If it's not a problem. It's just to have a shower and stuff. Maybe get a bite to eat. If you need to run me back-to-back I'm not that concerned. Just not all the time. I'm not gonna throw a strop if I have to go back in in thirty-nine minutes. It's easier if I don't think of it as like a big lump of time, anyway. It's not a fourteen hour shift. It's just seven little individual jobs. All of them are different, so it doesn't get monotonous.”

“What if you're bottoming? Like, all seven in a row?”

“Still all different.” Mark drummed his fingers on the table. “Maybe I lose a little bit of focus, but they're not there all day, I am. And if I slacked off on one just because they were the fourth person that day it wouldn't be fair, because I'm probably the only one that day, for them. I'm not gonna go all out for some, then expect the others to pay the same for less.” He bit his lip. “They're not bad people. They just need something. And if I can help, why not? Cos yeah, for some people it might just be fucking, but maybe I'm the difference between them feeling really depressed, or yelling at their family, or... or something like that. Most of 'em probably feel bad enough. Why make it worse?”

“You're like a therapist.” Nicky said flatly. He got it, of course he did. Sometimes it was nice to help. Hell, he'd had a longstanding series of appointments with a really nice guy with quite bad burn scars all over his body, his confidence shattered by his appearance. But it had still been a job.

“No. I'm a whore.” Mark laughed, colour still blushing high in his cheeks from his rather impassioned explanation. “I know what I am. I like to fuck. I'm good at it. It doesn't mean I should be a pessimist about it.” He picked the paper back up again.

They settled into a comfortable silence for awhile. Mark working his way through the rest of the rental listings then settling back to read the whole paper, lingering for a bit on the entertainment section. Nicky finished his noodles, then the two of them worked out a grocery list for the next day. It was nearing on quarter to ten when Mark stood up, stretched, and smiled sleepily.

“I'm gonna go get ready.”

Nicky nodded, reaching over to pick up the newspaper. He still hadn't had time to read the bloody thing.

 

*

 

Later, when Mark had gone upstairs and the house was quiet, Nicky went back to his office, glanced at the neatly organised stacks of paper, and poured himself a whisky from the bottle he kept under his desk.

Then he turned on the nanny-cam monitor.

The camera was set high in the corner of the room, from a security camera behind a small one-way mirror. But still, Nicky could see his face, the way his eyes fluttered when he was entered, the dark flush on his arse when he was spanked lightly. The client was a shortish, balding man that Nicky barely saw. Barely noticed. Everything was Mark's hooded eyes, the bow of his back underneath the pressure behind him, the way he adjusted his knees to brace against the short, sharp thrusts. His face turned back to look over one sweat-slicked shoulder, and Nicky let out the groan he hadn't realised he was holding in, unzipping his trousers without thinking, not even aware that he had been squeezing himself for the past five minutes.

Mark bowed his head, mouth opening in a silent cry that Nicky echoed, biting his lips to muffle it. For not the first time, he cursed the lack of sound on the feed, wished he could hear the slap of that hand coming down on plump, perfect skin.

Mark was pushing back, his mouth opening in something that looked like encouragement. Nicky saw the guy twitch, saw him hammer in and out, his hands grabbing Mark's hips hard enough to hurt.

But it was Mark's face (bittenlipsclosedeyesredcheeksjesuschrist) Nicky saw when he choked out a half-bitten sob and coated his own hand in guilty, unintended spurts of cum.

 

*

 

Mark let Martin out, dropping the satisfied face a cheeky wink. There was silence from the other room. Perhaps Nicky had already gone to bed. If so, he was pleased. That guy needed more sleep. He headed into the kitchen to get some dinner. His noodles were all stuck together, so he shook the tub lightly and stuck it in the microwave, sitting down to wait for the beep.

 

*

 

Nicky heard Mark come down, the beep of buttons on the microwave.

He wanted to say something. Do something.

This was so fucking unprofessional. This was why he hadn't started anything with Kian. He'd wanted Kian, once upon a time, but it was just easier not to. To stand back, look at Kian objectively, and say no. No. Absolutely not.

He looked up at the feed of the bedroom. The empty bed, the sticky sheets.

Absolutely not.


	5. Friday

Kian was sitting in the living room doing the crossword when Mark left. Nicky was across from him eating a bowl of cereal. It was early, still twenty minutes or so until official opening time, and Mark knew there were no appointments booked in until 11am. He'd had a few calls for requests, but Nicky had booked them in later in the week, smiling at Mark and telling him to enjoy his day off, distributing them among the other two boys where he could. Kian had been downright polite, had had two clients rostered off the back of Mark's absence, and Mark was relieved, glad he could help out in some way, maybe mollify the awkwardness between them. He was in a better mood after his day off, anyway, saying something about a date that had gone well.

Shane was just coming in as we went out, and gave him a friendly clap on the back on the way in, his mood from the day before seemingly thawed. Maybe it had just been one of those days. Shane was a cool guy, in the right mood, and everybody had seemed a bit on edge the day before anyway. Maybe it was just a one-off thing.

The groceries were easy. Mark made phone calls while he pushed the cart down the aisle, getting a few rental appointments for the afternoon, giving him the rest of the morning to take the groceries home, get them put away, and maybe have a bit of a clean-up before he had to be anywhere.

It was nice, actually. While he'd admit he'd been a bit panicked at the idea of moving out after so long at Bryan's, and now at Nicky's, he also realised that he'd forgotten what freedom felt like. Being independent. Not that he was complaining about a fully-stocked fridge and maid service, but it had been like living in a bubble.

Except his trolley had a crooked wheel. He could have done without that.

“Mark?”

He was in the pasta aisle, trying to decide on sauces, when he heard his own name. He looked around, and there was Bryan, a big grin on his face.

“Bry? Hey!” Mark let out a strangled breath when he was wrapped in a strong hug. Then just as quickly, Bryan was holding him back at arms length, appraising him. “How're ye?”

“You lost weight? You eating alright?”

“I'm fine!” Mark pushed him away. “You saw me three days ago.”

“Yeah, but y'know. Little bird, away from the nest. You know how I worry.”

“I think I'll be okay.” Mark grabbed two sauces from the shelf. He wasn't going to make a decision any time soon, so screw it. He'd just have to make a lot of pasta. “I'm good. Nicky's letting me stay in one of the rooms, but I'm going out this afternoon to look for a place of my own.”

“You're growing up so fast!” An arm came back around his shoulders, a kiss dropped to his hair. Mark wriggled away, laughing.

“I'm like a month younger than you.”

“Yeah.” Bryan beamed. “So how's Nicky?” He treat you alright?”

“I like him.” Mark said simply. “He treats us well. He's tired a lot of the time, but he does the best he can, I think.” He pushed the cart a little bit further down the aisle. Bryan fell into step alongside him, dumping his own basket into Mark's child seat to avoid having to carry it. “How are you doing? You got a day off?”

“Yeah.” Bryan shrugged. “Kevin's minding the shop.” Mark liked Kevin. He was a bit sooky when he was in a mood, but as a substitute Bryan he was always supportive and a good listener. Mark had used to fancy him, but the environment wasn't really great for starting relationships. Plus, Kevin was kind of his boss. His other boss. It would have been weird. “I needed a day off.”

“So you're shopping? Don't have people to do that for you?”

“Yeah, but sometimes I like to get out into the great unknown. Slum it with you mortals.” Bryan chuckled. “Nah, I've got a thing at a mate's place tonight. Said I'd pick up some crisps and stuff. You remember Derrick, that bloke who worked for us about six months ago?”

Mark shook his head. A lot of guys had come through Bryan's. He wasn't even sure he'd met half of them, if they'd been on different shifts.

“Out of the game. Getting married.” Bryan went on. “Some bird who works at the bakery.”

“Shit, well good for him.” Mark said honestly. “She know what he does?”

“Yeah. Seems okay with it.” Bryan shrugged. “Good on him, I guess. We should all be so lucky.”

“Not gay, then?”

“Nah. Just... what's the word... secure. Didn't mind taking it for a few bob, and honestly I wouldn't be surprised if that greased her decision. He's not exactly poor now, is he? It's not like he stole it from some poor defenceless old lady. Very lucrative, being gay for pay.”

Mark nodded. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been on a date. Guys were either turned right off, felt totally inadequate, or were perversely into the whole thing. At which point Mark suspected that it was more about them getting for free what other people had to pay for than actually sleeping with him. As a person. He'd gone out wth one or two other sex-workers to try to combat the feeling, but it hadn't really worked out either. There was too much rivalry, too much jealousy.

He was busy, though. He had friends. He was hardly desperate for a shag. So for now, he was good.

“Listen, I've got an hour or so before I have to be anywhere. You need a lift back to Nicky's?”

Mark thought it over for a moment, then nodded. The sooner he was home, the sooner he could get out and start looking at places.

They wandered for a bit while Mark finished his shopping. Mark wasn't so used to Bryan outside of work. Yeah, he was always friendly and funny, but this Bryan was downright boisterous, with tons of excited energy and a joke for every situation. By the time they made it to the registers, Mark found himself laughing out loud when Bryan nudged him playfully, knocking Mark off balance while he tried to load the conveyor belt.

“Hi, welcome to...” The kid at the counter said. Mark looked up with a grin as the kid's voice faltered, realising that mucking around with Bryan was probably rude while the guy was just trying to serve them. “Erm... hi.”

“Hi.” The bad skin, dodgy glasses. Mark had to glance at his nametag to be sure. “Jeffrey.”

The kid blushed. Mark smiled encouragingly back while the kid tried to climb inside his own skin and disappear, probably in the last place he wanted to be right now, with the last person he wanted to see. Bryan looked between the two of them, bemused.

“Uh...” He looked down at the box of crackers in his hands. They didn't want to scan. “Just a second.” He paged for a price-check, his voice cracking on the last word. Mark just smiled, not sure what else to do. Yeah, sometimes you saw a client in public, but you mostly just kept your head down and tried to avoid embarrassing them. This kid was stuck here with him for the next few minutes at least. And what was he supposed to say? 'Hey, you paid to fuck me two days ago. How's that going?'

The kid that came over was tallish, with brown hair, blue eyes and a name tag. He took the box of crackers without a word and disappeared, leaving both Jeffrey and Mark to stare at their own hands. Bryan wandered over to put a couple of quid in the gumball machine.

“So, Norman, huh?” Mark attempted a nod in the direction the kid with the nametag had gone. They didn't look that similar, he supposed, but closer than, say, Kian would. “How's uh... that going?”

Jeffrey went bright red. Well, redder. His acne filled in like a join the dots. Mark leaned on the counter, looking idly through his wallet just for something to do. Jeffrey stared blankly at the readout on the scales.

“Oh, he's uh... not...”

“I get ya.” Mark glanced up when Norman came back, handing the crackers back and relaying the price. Jeffrey nodded, not making eye contact. Mark watched him go. “You want a bit of advice?”

Jeffrey looked like he was about to shake his head, then nodded.

“You know the trolley boy? Tallish? Ginger?”

Nodded again.

“Gayer than you would believe.”

Jeffrey smiled. It was tiny, but he smiled. “I know. It's not the same.” He relayed the total. Mark handed over the money. Mark looked behind him. There was no-one else in earshot, no other customers waiting. He reached across the counter, put a hand on Jeffrey's.

“You seem ike a nice kid. He'll come along. Maybe not that one, but one. Believe me. You're not bad in bed, either.” He dropped a wink.

“I... yeah.” The blush was draining from the spotted face. Jeffrey was still holding Mark's receipt, staring at it blankly. Mark took it carefully from him, watched his slack hand float in the air for a second, then drop. “Thanks. And... uh... have a good day.”

“You too.” Mark stepped away, caught up with Bryan. He declined the handful of gumballs thrust at him, keeping both hands on the trolley.

 

*

 

“How's it going?” Nicky knew he was the boss, but right now he felt at a complete disadvantage. Shane was filing, sorting, typing and clicking all at once. The piles of documents were down to two stacks; Nicky had no idea what was in each.

“Not bad.” Shane mumbled, a piece of paper between his lips. He spat it out. They both watched it drift back to the desk. There were highlighters everywhere. “I can already save you about fifteen percent on your mortgage repayments for the next six months, but I'll need access to your online bank accounts.”

“O.... kay.” Nicky nodded, sitting down. This was so weird, sitting on the wrong side of his own desk. Shane glanced up, smiling. Nicky managed one back. “Yeah. Okay. Why the hell not? Anything else?”

“Getting there.” Shane grabbed a pen, putting lines through some items on a list he'd started. The list was colour-coded. Nicky was amazed. Shane was scatterbrained at the best of times, completely dysfunctional at the worst. How could someone who lost his focus trying to walk a straight line be so completely organised? He even had ink-stained fingers. It was bizarre. “Who does your accounts normally?”

“...me.”

“Ah.” Shane smiled. It was apologetic, that smile. Nicky kind of hated it. “Well, if you can get me the commissions breakdown for the three of us, I can see if there's anything I can do. Maybe you can change the transaction method? I know it's not strictly above board, but I might be able to sneak a few things through if you pay a percentage in cash. Up to you, of course.” He must have caught Nicky's reluctant look. He didn't mind Shane looking through the broader stuff, but he wasn't sure if he should be showing Shane exactly what the three of them made, how their paychecks broke down. Not that any of them had anything to sneeze at, but Kian had been there quite a bit longer and... well...

“I know Kian gets paid more than me.”  
  
“Huh?”

“Kian. I know.” Shane leaned back in his chair. “It's cool. He's been here longer and he's a bit more in demand. He brags all the time, so it's not like I don't know.”

“Kian brags?” Nicky realised that was a stupid question. Of course Kian bragged.

“Of course he does. It's Kian.” Shane laughed. “It's fine, mate. Honestly, if looking through your expenses has told me anything, it's that you should probably be paying us less, taking more of a cut.”

“I don't want to shortchange you.” Nicky rubbed his hand over his face, overwhelmed by Shane's easy acceptance. Maybe the guy was more sensible than Nicky had given him credit for. “I'm not gonna go taking all your money when you're doing the work.”

“Well I'm not telling you to cut my pay.” Shane laughed. “Please don't. But let me have a look. Maybe there's another option.” Nicky nodded. “I appreciate it, anyway. You are good to us. You know that.” Shane reached out to touch Nicky's hand. “You're the best boss I've ever had. And I've had some pretty crap bosses.”

“I'm not sure that's high praise.”

“It is when you consider I'm still here. You know one of my first pimps tried to give me six percent of the cut? Six percent. And he spent most of his cut on speedballs and prostitutes. He paid more to the prostitutes he was using than the ones he was selling. That was my worst. My best was fine, but she didn't appreciate me. She didn't appreciate any of us. You do. Maybe because you've been there, but you take care of us. You know our limits, you don't ask us to do stuff that makes us uncomfortable, and you respect that we're people, not property. Hell, I remember you cancelling my appointments when I'd had a bad break-up last year. If that had happened, even with one of my better bosses, I'd be told to bend over and shut up. You bought me pizza.”

Nicky nodded. It wasn't exactly sound business, but Shane had looked so miserable it hadn't been in him to tell him to get upstairs. And Kian had picked up some of the extra business, so he hadn't really minded either.

“You're good to us, Nix. I want to help.”

Nicky felt like he was about to cry. That wasn't sound business either. But Shane was already distracted, flipping through receipts with a single minded purpose. Nicky stood, wanting to leave the room before he burst into tears.

“You uh... have a job in about a half an hour Some new guy. Just a blow-job apparently. Twenty minute quickie.”

“Easy done.” Shane nodded, taking it in stride. Nicky wanted to hug him. “Is Kian back down yet?”

Nicky shook his head. “Nah. He's got one of his regulars. Paid for an hour and a half.”

“Marathon.” Shane shook his head. “What's the gig?”

“Sensory deprivation thing. If it's anything like last time, Kian will probably just tie him up, blindfold him, and pop back every ten minutes or so to tickle his feet.”

Shane laughed out loud. “Did he take a book?”

Nicky shook his head. “Nah. But as long as he doesn't accidentally fall asleep, he'll be fine.” His interest was piqued now. “I've got to check him anyway, if you want to turn on the screen.”

And... there was Kian, sitting in the chair on the corner, playing with his phone. They both laughed. The customer had his limbs stretched out to all four corners of the bed, gag in his mouth, blindfold on, and was bucking furiously against the empty air like he was fucking a ghost. As they watched, Kian glanced up, stood, checked the guy wasn't having a seizure or something, then went and sat back down.

“That's magic!” Shane let out a laugh that was more of an embarrassing snort. “How much longer has he got?”

“Another...” Nicky checked his watch. “...fifteen minutes.”

“Well, I don't think Ki's in any danger.” Shane observed. “Unless the guy's gonna go all Carrie and start floating knives with his mind. Oh, wait, he's moving again...” They both roared with laughter again. Kian had reached out, not even bothering to stand up, and poked the guy's foot with a long peacock feather. As they watched, he arched off the bed, head rolling from side-to-side. “It would be wrong to watch the rest of this, right?”

“Totally wrong. Unprofessional.”  


“Do you ever watch mine?”

“Sometimes.” Nicky admitted without much hesitation. What was the point in lying? “But it's purely professional appreciation. You know, making sure you're doing your job.”

“Not perving on me or anything?”

“Never.” Nicky said. “You are absolutely not an object of sexual desire.”

“Good thing I'm not in the sex industry, then.”

“Absolutely. I don't know who would hire you.” Nicky pulled his chair around to sit next to Shane. They both leaned back, giggling together when Kian stood back up, running a hand through the guy's hair, the peacock feather moving down his stomach to his cock. He teased him for a bit, then looked at his watch, got a solid grip, and started stroking, keeping his eye on his watch. By the time he'd been wanked off, Kian had nine-and-a-half minutes to go, a sticky hand, and was climbing onto the bed to cuddle up alongside the still bound figure on the sheets.

“Cuddler?”

“Guess so.” Nicky nodded, reaching out to turn off the screen.

The front door was opening. Nicky leapt out of his chair in case it was a customer, but his concern was assuaged when he heard Mark's voice.

“I'm back! Come help with the groceries!”

Nicky wandered out a bit slower than he intended, trying not to look to eager. Not that he was, but it would be weird if it looked like he was. The front door was open, a pile of plastic bags at the door, and Nicky caught Mark's back walking back down the front path to a car. Nicky blinked. He'd expected a taxi. It took him a moment to recognise the figure unloading the back as Bryan.

He picked up the bags, dragging them into the kitchen. There were a lot of groceries, and Nicky felt his gut sink, thinking that maybe he shouldn't have given Mark his credit card. Not that there was much he could do about it now. The bags were still coming. Bryan slammed the boot shut, handing over the last couple of bags and heading back around to the driver's side. He waved at Nicky. Nicky waved back.

“Hey!” Mark grinned. He pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead. Nicky realised all of a sudden that he had never seen Mark's eyes outside, in the sunlight. They looked like stormclouds on the sea.

“Hey back.” Nicky looked at the bags in his hand. “Get a receipt?”  
  
“Oh, don't worry, my treat.” Mark pushed past him. “You put me up, I'm probably gonna use half of it anyway, so let me get this one.”

“No, I...”  
  
“Seriously, it's cool.” Nicky's credit card was being pressed into his hand. “But do you mind putting them away? I've got a couple of flats to check out today, so Bryan said he'd drop me off at the first one.”

“That's fine.” It was all Nicky could say.

“Cool. Thanks. Be back later.” Mark pecked him on the cheek. Nicky was still standing there, hand on the place Mark's lips had touched, when Bryan's car rounded the corner and disappeared.

 

*

 

“So... what's Nicky's place like?”  


“Professional curiosity?”

“Nah. Completely personal.” Bryan took a hand off the wheel to clap onto Mark's shoulder, squeezing. “Just checking on you.”

“It's fine. I'm fine.”  
  
“You uh...” Bryan swallowed. Squeezed Mark's shoulder again. “You alright though? Back to your old self?”

“I guess so.” Mark shrugged. More or less, he was. Except for the not sleeping properly, and the occasional twinge of panic that ran down his spine, most of the day he didn't even think of it. “I'm all healed up.”

“You know that's not what I mean.”

“I know.” Mark forced a smile. “Seriously, though, I'll be okay. Nicky's really nice. Shane's pretty cool too. They're really close to each other, but they've both been pretty friendly. I think Nicky wants to come off harder than he is.”

“Oh, Nicky's a love.” Bryan began to reverse the car into a parking spot. Mark's first stop was just up the road. “We used to hang out. Even got together a couple of times, he tell you?”

“Uh. No.” Mark tried not to look surprised. After the way Nicky had stonewalled Kian, he'd thought maybe he was too emotionally closed off. And Nicky and Bryan were so different. It didn't make sense in his head.

“I'm not surprised. Doubt he even remembers. It never meant anything, but we'd go out, get trashed, compare notes, sometimes roll around a bit. But work gets in the way. I don't think I've even had a ten minute conversation with him in the last six months. He always looks so stressed out, and I've got my lot to deal with, so it's not like I get a weekend off. How's Kian, by the way?” Mark pulled a face without meaning to, making Bryan laugh. “Kian did a bit of work for me a couple years back.”

“Really?”

“Really. I'll give you a hint.” Bryan turned off the ignition, turning in his seat to look at Mark. “Don't do him any favours. You can be polite, but don't try to make him like you, he'll get on the back foot right away, and if he feels like he owes you something he'll be even less impressed. If I had to give you one clue when it comes to Kian, it's to let him win at something. Doesn't matter what, just let him win.”

“What, so I have to pander to him?”

“I didn't say that. Don't suck up. And don't let him win all the time. Just one time. Make him not see you as a threat and you'll be best friends in no time, then he won't mind so much. I know he seems hard, but he's really funny when he's in the right mood, and he's got a good heart. But I'm running late, so get the hell out of my car.”

Mark was startled into a laugh. Bryan hugged him. He hugged back.

“I really appreciate everything, Bryan.”  
  
“Of course you do. I'm class.” A hand was still on Mark's shoulder. “You're pretty great too. And can I give you another hint?” Mark shrugged. “If you're gonna go after Nicky, just make sure you're sure. Don't mess him about, yeah? He's not going to want to look weak, and he won't let his guard down easily. But I think you'll be good for each other.”

“I'm not...”

“Yeah, okay.” Bryan leaned over, pushing open Mark's door. “Now get out. Derrick's got a keg.”

 

*

 

It was hours later that Mark made it back home. The sky was a heavy, sick, dark green when he stepped out of the cab, the weather report on the radio predicting storms and strong wind. Probably not a good thing for business, but Mark kind of hoped it was a good one. He loved storms. The crackle of electricity in the air, the roll of the thunder, the deep metallic smell right before the rain came crashing down like a curtain. He could smell the rain already, the humidity making his skin slick.

He hadn't had a hell of a lot of luck on the flat front. The best he'd seen was a three-bedroom house completely out of his price-range and way too big for one person. He'd considered a housemate, but it kind of defeated the purpose of getting out on his own. He was surrounded by people all day, sometimes quite literally. The others were all pokey one-bedroom flats with rattly plumbing and creaky floorboards. One had had a smell of mildew so strong he'd wanted to throw up.

The hand he lifted to knock on the door was left hanging when the door opened in front of him. Nicky jumped, then stepped back.

“Good timing. Get in. Storm's coming.”

“I heard.” Mark slipped past. “Supposed to be a good one.”  
  
“There's supposed to be hail. I'm sending the others home.” Mark saw movement behind Nicky and spotted Kian coming down the stairs with his bag. Shane was right behind him. “We won't have any business, and I want them home before it gets bad. Lads, you got everything?”

They assented, sidling past Nicky and Mark and out into the cab Mark had just vacated.

He'd been inside less that ten minutes, was changing into his pyjamas, when the rain started.

It smashed down in hard, almost solid sounding drops. Through the bedroom window, he could see the wind bending the trees like flags, the flash of lightning so bright it couldn't have been more than a mile away. Then the hail came.

Mark swore. He slammed the window shut, then went around the other rooms, closing the windows too, making sure the doors were securely closed and not about to slam in the wind. He could hear windows being closed downstairs too, Nicky's bare feet thumping on the floor.

There was another roll of thunder. Mark swore he felt the house shake.

The lights went out.

Mark tried not to laugh at the squeal from downstairs. He really, really did.

“Mark? You okay?”

“I'm fine!” Mark called back. “You okay?”

“...yes. Do you have candles?”

He actually did. There was a bundle of tapers and a bag of tealights in the cupboard for waxplay. It wasn't really something Mark did a lot of, but right now he was grateful for both them and the lighter he'd left on the bedside table.

“Stay where you are! I'm coming to you!”

He found Nicky sitting in the kitchen, his hair wet on one side, obviously the victim of an unfortunate gust of wind while doing the windows. He lit another candle, but when he went to hand it to Nicky there was another crash of thunder and the blonde's hands shook.

“You're scared of the storm?”

“No, that'd be crazy.” Nicky pouted, taking the candle. It lit his face from below, making him look so small and young, enveloped by the darkness.

“I'll take care of you.” Mark laughed, beginning to light a few tealights, dotting them around the kitchen so they could see where they were. There was no point asking where the fuse box was. The lights were out on the whole street, the storm coming in harder now. But before long they had a glow comfortable enough to see by and Nicky was lighting a cigarette with trembling hands.

“You got all the windows closed?”

Mark confirmed it. Nicky looked nervous as hell. It was fucking adorable. He kept fiddling with his cigarette, hands scratching at the edge of the table. Mark reached out, capturing both hands in his and squeezing. When he looked up, Nicky was staring at him with something indefinable in his eyes. Mark attempted a smile.

“Do you want to go into the living room? Might be more comfortable.”

Nicky nodded. Mark pulled him to his feet, not letting go of his hand. He didn't think he could anyway. Nicky was just about grinding the bones in his fingers together. Mark had to extricate himself once Nicky was on the couch, pressing a kiss to Nicky's forehead. Nicky was still staring at him while he moved a few candles from the kitchen to the living room, using them to light a few more.

“You okay?”

“I... yeah.” Nicky finally averted his eyes. “Sorry. I don't really like storms. Never have.”

“That's okay.” Mark sat down next to him, putting an arm around Nicky's shoulders, trying to comfort him. He kissed Nicky's forehead again, feeling him lean into it. “I wish I could offer you a hot drink or something, but there's no power for the kettle.”

“It's fine.” Nicky bit his lip, looking up. It was about that point that Mark realised how close their faces were. Which was.... inopportune. Because Mark was pretty sure he was about to kiss Nicky.

Nicky's lips parted way too easily, and for a moment Mark was as surprised as if Nicky had been the one to initiate this, but he was nothing if not practised at this. He leant forward, his fingers coming up to tilt Nicky's chin into the kiss, tasting cigarette smoke when Nicky's tongue flicked out to meet his, his arms around Mark's neck all of a sudden.

“Um.” Nicky mumbled when their lips parted, their noses still pressed together. He smelled like tobacco, tasted like sugar. Looked like sex. Felt...

“Um.” He heard himself mutter back. “I... sorry.”

“Don't be.” Then Nicky's mouth was back on his, consuming him, pulling him in. It was rough and awkward and uncoordinated. For a moment Mark was completely embarrassed, sure his own particular skills should have kicked in by now, but Nicky was pressing against him, his body hard and shaking, and Mark couldn't remember how his hands were supposed to work.

They were figuring it out on their own accord, though, coming around Nicky's waist, yanking them even tighter together and  _ yes _ that was good. Grinding and pushing, Nicky's hands framing his face, pulling him in and pushing him back at the same time until Mark was laid on his back, covered in Nicky, their tongues fighting for dominance in the shared cavern of their mouths.

Thunder rolled again. He felt Nicky shiver. Then the lights came back on.

 

*

 

Nicky blew out the candles, trying to slow his racing heart. The lights had been back on for two minutes now, which made it one minute and fifty-nine seconds since they had stared at each for a moment, frozen, eyes squinting in the sudden light. One minute fifty-seven since Mark had backed away, his hands moving from Nicky's arse. One minute fifty-five since Nicky had stood up, not bothering to hide his excitement, muttered an apology, and gone into the kitchen to start blowing out candles.

Mark had gone to do the laundry now the power was back on, his jeans tented in a particularly delicious way. Nicky had wanted to follow him, but with the lights back on and his breathing starting to even back out again, he knew that was a phenomenally stupid idea. Like kissing Mark in the first place. Or allowing Mark to kiss him. He wasn't even sure which it was. All he knew was that his employee (and say that again Nicky: 'employee') was very sweet, caring, and kissed like a fucking demon. He should, anyway, and therein lied the problem.

Because if there was one thing Mark was good at, it was making people feel better.

Nicky shook his head. He'd brought it on himself, he supposed. Acting like a trembling child over a stupid storm. It was still lashing at the windows now, the rattle of hail down to occasional thuds, but Nicky found he couldn't really spare it much thought. Not with Mark's kiss still dampening his lips.


	6. Saturday

Nicky woke up feeling better than he had in ages. Despite the initial tossing-and-turning and the sound of the storm, he'd been fast asleep by ten and hadn't stirred again until almost seven-thirty. It was the most sleep in a row he'd had in months. Mark was already up, he could hear movement in the kitchen and the sizzle of something on the stove, a thick smell of bacon wafting through the house.

Nicky breathed in deep, laying still in the bed for a moment. He really really didn't want to get up, was far too comfortable, but the smells coming from the kitchen were too hard to ignore.

He yanked a shirt over his head and went to investigate.

Mark was stood at the stove and didn't hear Nicky come in, too absorbed in flipping whatever was in the pan. So Nicky sat down, pillowing his head on his hands and closing his eyes again. He heard Mark laugh.

“You want eggs?”

“Mmm.” Nicky agreed, cracking one eye open. “Do I smell bacon?”

“And toast. I can do a couple of sausages if you want?”

“Bacon's fine.” Nicky yawned, closing his eyes to slits and watching Mark move around the kitchen. He wasn't dressed yet, was dressed pretty much the same as Nicky in boxers and an old t-shirt with some band on it that Nicky had never heard of. A plate landed in front of him. Nicky reached out to spear a chunk of scrambled egg, not lifting his head from the table while he navigated it into his mouth. A cup of coffee landed next to it. Mark switched off the stove, sat down, and opened up the paper, his red pen back in his hand.

This was nice. Breakfast, coffee. Company. Nicky sat up properly, looking over at the newspaper dividing them, Mark's eyes just visible over the top.

“That all you're having?” Mark had maybe two spoonfuls of scrambled eggs in front of him and a single rasher of bacon. And tea instead of coffee. Mark looked up from his paper.

“Oh. Yeah. No, I figured you'd want some breakfast so I just grabbed a bit. Don't want to need the bathroom if I load up on grease. I'll have an apple or something in a bit.

“You made me breakfast?”

“Yeah.” The paper was up higher now, hiding Mark's face. Nicky smiled, feeling thoroughly confused but very grateful. When was the last time he'd had a proper breakfast? Not that a big plate of fried food was proper, but it was better than the six cups of coffee and half a piece of toast he usually had time for.

“Thanks.”  
  
“No problems.” Mark turned a page. “All three of us on today?”

Nicky nodded. The other boys would be here in about an hour. Shane had quite a busy day ahead of him, Kian was doing okay as well. He'd taken a couple of Mark's regulars the day before, and while they hadn't left disappointed they hadn't made repeat appointments either. Not that that was strange. One of them seemed quite taken with Kian, so maybe something would come of it.

“Much work?”

“Yeah, not bad.” Business was picking up. He'd have to talk to Shane, see if this was making any dent in his financial situation or if it was just a drop in the bucket. “I've got a new guy coming in at four this afternoon for a showing...”

They fell into comfortable conversation, planning out the day ahead and making small talk. Mark's newspaper dropped a bit more. Nicky asked him how the house hunting was going, Mark told him a bit of what Bryan had said the day before about someone he'd had to fire, and by the time breakfast was done they were borderline domestic.

Except he could still feel Mark's hands on his arse.

The others showed up not long after breakfast. Mark was munching on a peach, juice dribbling down his chin, holding a hand underneath to stop the drops falling onto his nice shirt. He looked fuckable. Which was just Nicky noticing as a boss, of course. Shane and Kian both looked pretty fuckable too.

Shane had a nine-fifteen, some bloke that looked like he'd come fresh off the night shift at the brickyard, which was probably true. He had a shower, at least, but Mark complained about having to wash cement dust out of the sheets. It was like that sometimes, with tradies. It was the same when one of them got a mechanic, and no matter how clean they were they still smelled like engine oil. Nicky remembered blowing a painter once and spotting specks of house-paint still on his knees.

The day went easily enough. Kian was in a good mood, Nicky had had a good breakfast, and Shane and Mark were their usual congenial selves. They started a game of cards during a low ebb, but it was paused when a walk-in knocked on the door and paid to fuck Kian. Kian went willingly enough, playfully knocking Shane's shoulder when the brunette went to peek at his cards. Mark's regular Ivan came back for another footjob, booking in for an hour, and Shane got a nice older bloke who wanted a massage first.

Nicky found himself alone, sitting at the kitchen table with three hands of cards abandoned in front of empty chairs.

He went in to check the security cameras. Everyone was fine. Kian was due to finish up in about five minutes. Mark had a seductive, giggling face on, one leg stretched up in the air, toes in Ivan's mouth. Shane was getting starting to get more physical, kissing the guy's neck and rubbing fingers into his lower back.

Nicky smiled. He did love his boys.

Kian came down about five minutes later, and Nicky went to join him, waving the dazed client out the door. This was why he took payment beforehand, it was way too hard to get someone who was that well-fucked to look at a contract, and half the time they ended up arguing over what they'd gotten anyway. Lock them in beforehand, and they were already paying for it, so they might as well get their money's worth. Plus it meant his guys knew what they were getting in for, not getting a surprise and then having to convince the client to pay for it later.

Kian went to get an energy drink from the fridge. Mark had stocked up on Red Bull. He took a long swallow, draining most of the can in one go. Nicky laughed.

“Bit strenuous?”

“Nah. Fine. Just didn't get much sleep last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Kian wiped his mouth. “Had a date.”  
  
“Another one?” Nicky followed him through to the living room. The card-game wasn't going anywhere. Even when Shane came down, Mark would still have another twenty minutes or so on the clock. “Same bloke?”

Kian finished the can and wiped his mouth again. “Yeah. Met him at the pub last week. Hit it off. It's not anything yet, but it's quite nice to go out with someone who isn't paying for it.”

“Getting it for free, is he?”

Kian laughed. “Not yet, no. We just kind of sat up half the night talking. We got on alright. It's easy. I dunno.” He was blushing a little bit now. Nicky sat down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I haven't held a conversation that long with anyone in... shit, well you know. It's either rubbish with your mates or it's all just getting the guy's pants off.”

“He knows what you do?”

“Yeah.” Kian shrugged. “I've stopped bothering to lie about it. If they're worth lying to, they're the ones that are going to be around long enough to find out the truth. Then you're just back to square one.”

“And he doesn't mind?”

“Nah. No. Well he says he doesn't, but it's only two dates in, isn't it? It's always okay until it's not, and then they start getting annoyed because you're fucking other guys. But you know it's not the same thing. Not that I'm getting ahead of myself. We're going out again next week, but maybe nothing'll come of it.” Kian smiled, but his cheeks were still pink and his hands were fidgeting. “Sorry. I'm babbling on. How are you, anyway? When was the last time you had a fella?”

“Shit, I can't even remember.” Nicky snorted, trying to think back. “I went out with that one bloke about six months ago, but then work got in the way and I forgot to call.” That was about it. God, that was depressing. “At least you lot get a shag. I've been dating my hand since before New Years.”

He expected Kian to laugh, but instead there was just this sad sort of smile on his face.

“You're not allowed to feel sorry for me.” Nicky ordered, keeping his voice light. Maybe that was what all the crap with Mark last night had been. Maybe he was just hard up for it and hadn't realised. Kian was still giving him that look. “Seriously, Kian. I'm fine.”

“You want me to help out?” Kian reached out, running his thumb over Nicky's bottom lip. Nicky shook his head.

“No. Thanks. It's nice of you, but...” He shook his head. “We've been through this before. You and me aren't...”  
  
“I wasn't gonna say that.” Kian's thumb was still on his lip, his fingers caressing Nicky's chin. Nicky wanted to pull away. He really really did. “I wasn't offering a nice dinner and candles. I just thought you might want a BJ? No strings. I'm not gonna get all hung up on ya. Hell, you can slip me a tenner if it'll make you feel better. Mate's rates or something.”

“I'm your boss, Kian. It wouldn't be right.”

“You're also my friend. Sometimes I help my friends move, or pick them up from the airport.”

“And sometimes you go down on them?”

“Yeah, well.” Kian laughed, an open, easy laugh that blessedly took the pitying concern out of his eyes, the hand off Nicky's face. “Look, offer's open. All I'm saying.”

“I appreciate it.” He did. He wasn't going to take Kian up on it, but it was nice to know someone was watching out for him. Kian couldn't do his finances, and it would be dangerous to let him near the kitchen, but this was how he knew he could help. Nicky appreciated the thought. “If you're going to do me a favour, though, I've got one way you can help me out.”

Kian raised an eyebrow.

“Be nice to Mark.” Kian turned away, his lips opening to deny it. Nicky cut him off. “I'm serious, Kian. He's a nice kid, he brings in business. He doesn't even technically work here yet. I know you've got a jealous streak a mile wide, but he's not taking your clients. You're good at what you do, and he's good at what he does.”

“I'm not jealous.”

Nicky kissed his cheek, trying to break the heavy atmosphere settling in the room. He didn't need a strop. Kian managed a half smile.

“I know. Because there's nothing to be jealous of, yeah? When you're the best, you're the best.”  


“Well, exactly.” Kian was smiling properly now, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “As if I'd be jealous of him.”

“What's he got that you don't have?”

Kian didn't reply to that, just gave Nicky a funny look and stood up. Nicky watched him leave the room, sure that he muttered a word on the way out.

He was sure that word was 'you'.

 

*

 

Mark showed Ivan out, getting a kiss on both cheeks at the door Say what you like about his particular fetish, the big Russian man was always friendly and impeccably polite. He didn't even swear during the act. Mark didn't think he'd ever even heard him say 'Jesus' or 'God'. He think he'd heard 'gosh' once, which had made him giggle afterwards to no end. He did rabbit on a bit in Russian when he was in the moment, but Mark wasn't sure whether he was swearing or just reading out a shopping list.

“Hey.” He flopped down on the couch across from Kian. He'd been losing quite badly at cards earlier on in the day, mindful of Bryan's advice, but Kian seemed okay today, if a bit tired. Kian was watching TV, some American midday talk show. Some girl was yelling at her mother while a smug host watched the whole thing, nodding understandingly and giving worthless advice. “What's the story?”

“Her mam wants her to finish highschool. She wants to marry her boyfriend.”

“Ah.” Both mother and daughter were dressed in tops one size too small for their fake boobs. “Seems fair.”

“Yeah, but mam's dating the same bloke.”

“Ooh, good one.” Mark took a crisp from the bag Kian offered. They were plain, but he couldn't exactly get into a packet of cheese and onion when he within an hour from snogging a stranger. “I was gonna get a Red Bull. You want one?”

“Just had one. Thanks though.” They settled into silence, both laughing when the cocky, white-trash boyfriend came strutting out, a terrible rat-tail hanging from the back of his head. It took a long while for Mark to realise Kian was sneaking glances at him. Mark ignored it. If he wasn't throwing a tantrum, then Mark didn't really care where he looked.

“I had one of your regulars yesterday.” Kian said suddenly. “Xavier.”

Mark nodded. Xavier was okay, but nothing out of the ordinary. A very normal middle-aged Spanish guy with a scratchy moustache and a wedding ring.

“Oh yeah, he's nice.” The show was ending, the mother, daughter and her boyfriend all led off the stage, crying and hugging. An ad came on for detergent.

“He was kind of put out that you weren't here.”  
  
“Yeah, well.” Another show was starting up. He checked his watch. He wasn't due for another session for half an hour. Nicky had been as good as his word, rearranging Mark's appointments immediately to allow for at least forty minutes between each one, without exception. Mark hadn't really expected it, but he appreciated it. “You took care of him alright?”

“He was fine.” Kian nodded. “I know what I'm doing.”

“I'm sure you do. He's a pretty easygoing guy, so I'm sure it wasn't a problem.” Mark realised that probably sounded backhanded, but it was true. He didn't know how he'd feel about giving Kian one of his more difficult clients, especially the ones with very specific tastes. It had taken him two or three attempts to figure out exactly what some of them really wanted, especially the ones that didn't know themselves. Anyone could whip out a blowjob to a middle-aged married man who was hard up for it. “Did he do the weird noise at the end?”

“The...” Kian made a high-pitched gobbling sound that sounded a bit like a cross between a dolphin and a panicked turkey. Mark made it back, and they both started giggling, Kian's blue eyes sparkling with laughter, making him look almost friendly.

 

*

 

Nicky looked up from his computer, smiling. Shane would be coming down any moment, so there were only two people who could be laughing like that. He was glad.

 

*

 

Four o'clock rolled around. Nicky got the three of them all freshly washed and dressed. Mark hadn't eaten much, but he had a scrub up with the shower head just in case. The day hadn't been hugely busy. He'd filled up the laundry basket with sheets, changed all the beds, made Nicky a sandwich, and hung out with Shane for a bit while Kian was taking care of one of his own repeat customers. He had a shave, avoiding cologne. You never knew if a client was going to end up having an allergy to something, and then it was just uncomfortable rashes all over the place.

He chose a pair of nice black jeans and a green shirt that made his eyes stand out, then bounced downstairs to join the others.

Nicky gave them the look over. Shane and Kian both looked nice. Shane's hair was styled up into a spiky quiff that made him look cool and relaxed, and Kian had a sleeveless t-shirt and baggy combats, showing off his arms.

It was two guys, one looking nervous and the other one overconfident. Mark had to laugh. He'd seen this before – someone was out to be made a man of by a well-meaning friend. Neither of them were great lookers, the nervous one was a bit chubby and his mate looked like he was trying to be a skinhead. Which was great, because Mark was pretty sure if he came up against any actual skinheads he'd be paste on the floor before his second breath.

They did the walk, had a chat for a minute. They both seemed polite enough. Kian had gone first, shrugging at them both on the way back as if to say that he really couldn't be bothered either way. Mark felt the same. He wondered idly if Michael the skinhead was going to buy too, or was just shouting one for his friend, Sean. They both looked like they barely needed twenty minutes, and this whole thing was pretty cut-and-dry as it was. Probably just a blowjob for Michael, a fuck for his virginal friend, then moving on with the rest of his life.

Shane was just sitting back down when Nicky came into the room. He'd left the clients out in the hallway and was looking at them all, studying each of them individually. Mark felt a little like he was under a microscope.

“I'm throwing this out there...” Nicky said finally. “And none of you are obliged to take it. If you do, you'll be getting an extra thirty percent on top of your usual rate.” He glanced out into the hallway. “Michael wants to know if he can have two at once.”

They exchanged looks. It wasn't unheard of, but Mark didn't really know them that well yet. He didn't know if Shane and Kian had shared a client before, but Mark had done it once or twice with other people at Bryan's and honestly didn't think that much of it. It was always a little bit awkward, two people who knew what they were doing trying to work their way around each other's own quirks. It was like trying to drive with two people holding the wheel.

“Which two?” Kian asked. It was a good question. Nicky shook his head.

“Honestly, I don't think he minds. If I had to choose, I'd send Shane in for his friend. You're good at making the virgins feel comfortable, but I...” He looked between Mark and Kian for a second, and Mark knew exactly what he was thinking. He and Kian were a powder keg. Yeah, they could get along okay for small stretches, but Kian was too stubborn and Mark wasn't sure he'd be able to work in that close proximity to each other without it one of them antagonising the other. “It's up to you. I'm not going to make you do something you don't want to.”

“I'll do it.” Shane piped up finally. Mark was glad. He didn't want to put himself in first, and then risk Kian joining in. “I don't mind. I've done it a bit with Kian before, and I've seen Mark work. I don't mind.” He said again.

“Thanks.” Nicky glanced back out into the hall. Mark could hear quiet voices talking, a little bit of nervous laughter. “Guys?”

Mark raised his hand. Fuck it. It wasn't that weird, and he liked Shane well enough. “What does he want, exactly?”

Nicky went back into the hall, spoke for a minute, came back. “He just wants to watch. I think he's straight, or thinks he is. Wants a gander.”

Mark traded a glance with Shane, who was giving him a quizzical look. Have sex with Shane? Yeah, okay. He could do that. It wasn't like Shane was unattractive, and he definitely knew what he was doing, which was a bonus.

“Why the hell not?” Shane made a sound of agreement.

“I'll book you in for forty-five minutes. Kian, you've got Sean. He's paid to fuck you, but honestly...” He lowered his voice, his eyes sparkling while smirked. Mark liked this Nicky, the well-rested Nicky, whose smiles reached his eyes. He wondered if this was what Nicky had been like when he'd started out. “...I don't think he'll last that long.” Kian muffled a laugh.

 

*

 

Nicky sent Mark and Shane upstairs to get ready. Kian was already leading his appointment up the stairs, his hand reassuring on his shoulder. Kian could be really kind when he wanted to, and Nicky trusted him enough to know the client was getting what he paid for.

Mark answered the door when he took Michael up, the younger boy already looking rumpled and sexy, his shirt half-unbuttoned. Shane was sitting on the bed, his shirt the only thing still on, cock standing hard and proud and eyes catching Nicky's for a second in a cheeky wink.

It was all Nicky could fucking do to not shove the customer out the door and leap on both of them himself.

He went back downstairs, not even bothering to feel guilty about switching on the screen. He was going to watch this, and if he was honest with himself, he was probably going to jerk off.

It was good. Shit,  _ they  _ were good. The guy just sat there in the chair, stroking himself, while two gorgeous boys made out on the bed, Mark's bigger frame covering Shane's. They looked like they were lost in each other, but Nicky could see the tricks, both of them knowing exactly how to position themselves so everything was visible, without being too obvious about it, the way Mark rolled a condom onto Shane with his mouth, hooked his legs over Shane's shoulders, giving a tantalising view of his entrance before Shane filled him, his face turning toward the client, reaching a hand out as though beckoning. Then he turned his face again, and for a moment he was looking right down the camera, his eyes locking with Nicky's.

“Fuck.” Nicky whispered. Okay, he was definitely jerking off now. Especially when Mark flipped them over and begin to ride Shane, his hips rolling slowly, then speeding up. Shane's head and shoulders tipped back off the edge of the bed, stretching him out, putting sturdy limbs and a taut torso on display. Shane had probably taken a Viagra, Nicky knew that, he occasionally did when he knew he had to come, but right now Nicky didn't really care. Because the looks on their faces were absolutely fucking transcendent.

Time stretched out. He flicked the screen over to Kian once, satisfied himself that he was fine, and then flicked back just in time to watch Mark pull off and climb up to straddle Shane's face. Michael was saying something from the chair, giving instructions probably, but all Nicky could see was Mark's hands rested on the mattress, the cheeky gape to Shane's mouth, the way Mark's lips dropped open in an exaggerated gasp. The way Mark turned around, sucking Shane, their bodies tilted perfectly to make sure the customer got his show. Shane twitched, one hand fisting the sheets, the other grabbing Mark's arse and yanking him in deeper, his whole body writhing on the bed. Nicky knew Shane was coming, because so was Nicky, grabbing a tissue and catching as much as he could. He was still cleaning himself up when Mark pulled off and rolled on a condom of his own. He entered Shane quickly, the smaller boy grinding into the sheets while Mark made a sweet, pouting face and came, his hand firmly on Shane's back.

Kian's client came down first, still looking nervous but satisfied. Kian was relaxed, just clapped a hand on Nicky's shoulder on the way past and went to get a glass of water from the tap. Nicky smiled at Sean, letting him take a seat in the living room to wait for his friend.

Shane's arm was around Mark's waist when they came down a few minutes later. Not suggestive, just friendly. The guys left pretty much straight away, Nicky relieved to see they looked happy. Not that he'd expected any less.

That had been quite a show.

 

*

 

Mark felt pretty great about how that had gone. Of course, the rush of relaxation from his orgasm definitely helped with that, but objectively it had been pretty successful. Shane had a spontaneous energy that was really easy to work with. Their client had managed to mumble a few awkward requests (mostly of the 'fuck him' variety, which was fantastically non-descriptive) and they'd just kind of gone with it.

He was almost kind of disappointed he didn't have another appointment until after dinner. He felt too fucking good to sit around waiting. Shane was grinning stupidly at him. Mark wanted to hug him. He felt like he should be dancing or something, taking a stupid amount of pingers and kissing a stranger under a strobe light.

Instead he was just sitting in Nicky's kitchen, eating a rice-cracker and watching Kian yawn.

“Plans for tonight, lads?”

Kian broke the silence. Nicky hadn't said anything, really, since the guys had left, though Mark had caught a few knowing glances from Shane, and a couple of winks, as though Shane knew something the rest of them didn't. Maybe he was just hyper too, acting like an eejit. He'd had a Viagra before they started, so he probably had a bit of energy. Mark hadn't bothered. He'd already had three Red Bulls and didn't want to go having a massive heart-attack in the middle of the thing. He hadn't really needed it. He hadn't come today, and Shane was not a bad prospect at all.

Mark didn't really like them anyway. They gave him a headache and made him unfocused.

“Dunno.” Shane stood up, pacing a little bit. Yep, there was the Viagra still kicking on. He was still half-hard and looked twitchy. “Got tomorrow off. Might go out. Haven't been clubbing in a bit.”

“Who you gonna go with?” Kian asked, looking interested now.

“Dunno, just myself. Drink too much, fall over, maybe pick up.”

“Want some company?”

“You're working tomorrow.” Nicky piped up. “Don't come in wrecked.”

“Nah, I was just gonna go have a drink. Alright, Shane?”

“Yeah, cool. You coming, Mark?”

Oh god, he wanted to. He really did. He was exhausted from this week and letting off steam sounded like the best thing in the world. He glanced at Nicky. He didn't even work here yet, didn't want to be the guy who came in hungover less than a week into the job. Still, team-building and all that.

“I'll go if Nicky goes.”

Nicky wouldn't go, Mark was sure Not even when the other two started ribbing him, grabbing his hands, trying to pull him to his feet. He wasn't even sure where they thought they were taking him. It was half-five in the afternoon, they still had about five hours of work left. But Nicky was getting up anyway, shaking them off.

“Come on Nix!” Kian was nudging him. Shane had an arm around his shoulders. He was still half-bloody-hard, turning his hips away from Nicky to avoid poking him. “You've been cooped up here forever. Maybe we can find you a fella?”

Nicky hesitated, looked like he was going to say no, then shook his head, a smile disappearing from his face as quickly as it appeared.

“One drink.”

Shane cheered. Kian punched him in the shoulder. Nicky glared at both Kian and Mark. Mark wasn't sure why he was copping it. He wasn't the one with half a stiffy running laps around the kitchen.

“But if either of you come in hungover tomorrow, I'll kick your teeth in.”

“Yes, dad.” Kian rolled his eyes. “One drink, Nix. It'll relax ya, I promise.  We'll be in bed by one.”


	7. Sunday

It was two-fifteen in the morning. Nicky wasn't sure where Kian was, but Shane had taken two of something he'd been given by some bloke who was apparently his 'best mate' and was busy jumping up and down in the middle of the dance floor. Not actually dancing, or moving around or anything. Just jumping, arms by his sides, feet together like a pin. He looked like he was having the time of his life.

Mark was drinking next to him. He'd been admirably sober for the first hour, had declined a round of shots that Kian had brought over. Then someone had bought multi-coloured drinks with too much alcohol in them, and it had been a free-for-all. Mark had bought a round, Nicky had bought a round, then Kian had come over with another round of shots and Nicky had said 'fuck it'. Then there were fruity things with lots of straws.

Nicky wasn't sure he could stand up.

“You pissed?” He looked at Mark, who squinted back. Mark looked good. Not done up waiting for a client good, just nice, in a plain black t-shirt and baggy jeans. He looked like a human being instead of a blow-up doll.

“Yep.” Mark replied. “Poor decisions were made.”

Nicky laughed. Mark looked relatively lucid, but if he was anything like Nicky it would all go to hell if he tried to move. It was easy to be level when you had sat in the same booth for the last hour, looking at the same sights. He was afraid to go to the bathroom in case he threw up on his shoes.

“Terrible. I blame Shane.”  
  
“You should. Bad influence.” There was a bag of salt and vinegar crisps ripped open on the table in front of them. Mark put a few in his mouth. Nicky followed suit, watching his arm move outside his body. “I don't know why you let him get away with it. Terrible employee.”

“You telling me how to do my job?”

“Absolutely.” Mark grinned, shoving a few more crisps in his mouth. “You should get someone who knows what he's doing.”

“What, like you?”

“Well, yeah. I'm responsible. I'd never get shitfaced with the boss on a work night.” Mark reached out for his drink, knocking two empty shotglasses off the table in the process. “Oops.”

“I want to. I like you.” Nicky grabbed his own, knowing it was a bad idea to take another sip. Okay, a gulp. Okay, he finished the whole damn thing. “I really like you. I like your attitude, and I think you're hot. And I mean that as... you know... a work thing.”

“Obviously.” Mark was laughing. “I'll take it personally, shall I?” He was slurring a little bit. His lips were really wet. Fuck. “You couldn't handle it.”

“So could.” Nicky was indignant. “I'm I'm I'm... I've been doing this longer than you. I've got. Whatsit. Seniority.”

“Out of the game too long.” Mark teased. “You've lost the knack.”

Nicky considered standing up, the offence was so great. He couldn't remember how his legs worked.

“I don't appreciate your tone.” He managed instead. Then he felt bad for being harsh, so he reached out to touch Mark's hand. Mark didn't look remotely offended, just laughed and leaned back into the corner of the bench, the strobe lights making a pattern on his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, lips moving. “What?” Nicky leaned in, putting a hand over his ear to filter Mark's voice from the rather terrible dance music.

“I said I bet you've still got a trick or two up your sleeve.”

“Or two?” Nicky pushed him away lightly. “You've got no idea. You're just a baby.”

“Is that why you've been watching me fuck all week?” Mark raised an eyebrow. Nicky felt his breath catch. “Shane told me. When you were in the bathroom.”

“He's mistaken.” Nicky lied. “I check on you, that's it. I don't want you guys to get hurt or something.” His face was red. He knew it. Mark was grinning, though.

“It's fine. Calm down.” Mark took another sip of his own drink. Empty. He pushed it away. “You were watching this afternoon, weren't you? Me and Shane.”

Nicky nodded without meaning to, his brain taken up with the look Mark was giving him, the direct look he'd gotten down the camera that day. Mark hadn't known Nicky was watching at the time, but now Nicky kind of wished he had. “Yeah.” He thought about saying sorry, but figured there wasn't much point. He wasn't really that sorry.

“How was it?”

“It was the hottest fucking thing I've seen in a long time.” Nicky put a handful of crisps in his mouth, trying to force the words he'd just spoken back into his throat. But Mark was raising that eyebrow again. That fucking know-it-all eyebrow.

“Do you watch the others?”

“No.”

Mark nodded. Stood up.

“We've got work tomorrow. We should probably get out of here.”

Nicky could stand up after all.

 

*

 

The cab ride home was polite enough. In fact, Mark was surprised by how calm the whole thing was. They'd wished Shane farewell, shaken hands with a fella Kian was chatting to. He was sure they'd been introduced, but had completely forgotten what the guy's name was. Kian was looking at him with big reverent eyes and they were holding hands, so Mark figured good for him.

Nicky was sitting in the back of the cab, Mark in the front giving directions. It was easy.

Nicky unlocked the front door, went into the kitchen to get a big glass of water. Handed one to Mark. They drank. Mark considered a coffee, but he was drunk enough to realise that could only go badly, and refilled his glass with water. Nicky wiped a few drops of water off his chin. Mark smiled at him.

“You alright?”

Nicky nodded, taking a deep breath. “I'm very drunk and this is a bad idea.”

“I was going to say the same.” Mark put his hand in Nicky's, feeling the returning squeeze. “I'm not... doing this for a job, if that's what you're thinking.”

“No.” Nicky's lips were trembling a little bit. “No, I know. I'm sorry, I don't want you thinking it's expected. I fancy the hell out of you.”

“Ditto.” Mark drained half his second glass, tipped the rest in the sink.

“It's... been a while. I know I was cocky before, but...” A thumb was on Mark's lips, a palm on his chin. “This is so insanely unprofessional I don't know where to start.”

“You say that a lot. Unprofessional.” Mark realised his hand was on Nicky's elbow, trapping the hand that was on his face. “This isn't business.”

“It is. This business... if I don't stay professional then things get too confusing. I stopped it with Kian. Even Bryan and I used to, but...” He shook his head. Mark just wanted to kiss him.

So he did.

It was chaste. Just lips, Nicky's hand moving down to wrap around Mark's neck, Mark bending his knees a little bit to negate the height difference. He tilted his head a little bit, felt lips open slightly under his, fingers clenching on the back of his neck. When he pulled back, slowly, he could feel Nicky trembling.

“We don't have to do this.”

Nicky shook his head. “We shouldn't. I want to though.”

“Me too.” Mark thought back to when Shane had spilled Nicky's secret, the other boy so hopped up on whatever he'd taken he didn't know what he was saying. At first, Mark had been taken aback, then offended, then felt a little violated. Then he'd locked eyes with Nicky over a round of shots, seen the exhaustion, the loneliness, the want, and all he'd been able to do was try not to kiss him on the spot.

Nicky took his hand, led him through the office and into the bedroom. It was as sparse as Mark remembered, but at least the bed looked slept in this time. Nicky sat down on the bed to fumble with his shoes. Mark helped, kissing his knees, feeling fingers thread gently through his hair while Mark slipped the shoes off, then the socks, running his hands up the outside of Nicky's thighs and pushing him back. Leaning over him, feeling Nicky press up, his knees coming up to trap Mark between his legs.

“You're beautiful.” He felt Nicky whisper against his lips. “I want you so badly.”

All Mark could manage was a moan back. He deepened the kiss, pushing down. Splayed hands roamed his back, clenching on his shoulders, sliding down to grab his arse, flitting indecisively. Mark understood. He wanted to touch all of Nicky at once.

He pulled their shirts off, feeling Nicky's nervous hiccup when their bare chests pressed together, then a deep, murmuring groan when he got a hand underneath them, hoisting Nicky's already insistent bulge up against his stomach.

Hands fumbled at his pants, and Mark helped, kicking them off, feeling bizarrely shy, even thought Nicky had seen it a hundred times that week already, helping Nicky with his own, kissing him deep as he took hold of Nicky's pretty sizeable erection and squeezing lightly, rolling his fingers, just teasing.

“Fuck, Mark.” Nicky sat up. His eyes were dark, and still full of alcohol. Nicky was pushing him back, reversing their positions, grinding them together. Mark didn't mind. He tipped his head back, feeling lips brush at his throat, hot breath panting on his neck. Fingers were playing at his nipples, rubbing up underneath his ribs and making him push into the ticklish touches. Thumbs pressing into the hollows of his hip bones while Nicky slithered down, pressing kisses everywhere he could reach. A mouth on his belly button, on his groin, teeth tugging at the hair on his balls, fingers on his thighs, stroking the backs of his knees and creeping up the backs of his legs. When Nicky finally took him in his mouth, Mark didn't know what to do with himself except cry out and shut his eyes, totally overwhelmed and quivering like an over-stretched guitar string.

“Jesus, Nicky...” He muttered, anchoring himself with a hand in Nicky's hair, feeling like one of his own clients for a moment. He hated it when they pushed down, but here he was doing the same, not able to tear focus from the miracle that was Nicky's mouth. The room was spinning. He was still drunk. He didn't care. Nicky was nibbling at the edge of his foreskin, using his tongue to probe into the slit, his hand stroking the length and pressing _just there_. “Nicky, I'm gonna come. Please. I don't want to come yet.” He managed to choke out, then ground out a mournful sigh when Nicky let go, crawling back up his body and dropping a kiss onto his lips.

“Lost the knack, have I?” Nicky nudged him. Mark laughed, unable to help himself. Nicky looked so proud of himself. Mark rolled them over, ducking his head. Now he was feeling competitive.

It was less than five minutes later, with a finger moving against Nicky's prostate and his lips pressed to the base of Nicky's cock that he felt like he was finally getting his own back. He was letting his tongue out as he moved up, wrapping it around the shaft, tickling the head, before plunging back down. Two fingers now. He felt Nicky jerk, the long, shuddering cry, and pulled away in time to watching Nicky coat his fingers, his hand substituting for his mouth while he stroked him through his climax, enjoying the glow on Nicky's skin, the way his eyes squeezed shut, the spastic jolt of his hips when those last few strokes rubbed too-sensitive skin.

“Okay?”

Nicky forced out something that might have been 'uh huh' or might just as easily have been him trying to breathe. And okay, yeah, Mark felt smug. And then, when he leaned over to kiss Nicky's gasping mouth, he just felt good and safe and happy.

 

*

 

Nicky couldn't get his breath. He was trying, but every time he did, Mark's fingers would snatch it away. He found he didn't much care. Because Mark's fingers were still in him, opening him up so deftly that Nicky couldn't even remember that he was supposed be uncomfortable. But it was all just  _ stretch _ , and Nicky felt pretty sure that he was going to die. He'd be good with that. Dying here, with Mark's fingers moving together, then separating, pulling Nicky apart.

He was also pretty sure he was still hammered.

He wanted Mark to fuck him. Tried to tell him. Just managed an embarrassing whine when all three fingers tripped over his prostate, one by one, like playing a really short scale on a piano. He couldn't stop curling his toes, was sure he'd started to come like ten minutes ago, with Mark's mouth around him, but couldn't remember stopping. Mark was nibbling his ear, there were four fingers in his arse now, there was an extraordinarily hard cock against his thigh, and Nicky couldn't remember how to breathe.

He swore instead. He didn't know what word, but Mark was snickering, twisting his hand, and hell, Nicky thought he could feel Mark's hand in his stomach. Which wasn't at all possible, but the pressure was immense and he was sure that he was about to come again which wasn't possible either because he was pretty sure he was still fucking coming from the first time.

Mark removed his hand. Nicky wanted to burst into tears. Disappointment. Relief, maybe, but then Mark was rolling on a condom and pushing home, and all he could do was grab smooth shoulders, press his face into that sexy, hairy chest, and ride it out, the smell of Mark thick in his throat, feeling the drunken spin of the room, the way Mark knelt back and tugged him up so they were face-to-face, his legs wrapped around Mark's back, holding on for dear life, Mark's arms holding him up, pressing kisses to his face,

Nicky realised he was crying.

“Are you okay?” Mark's hand through his hair.

“I don't know.” Nicky admitted. “Yes.” He tried. That seemed right. He wasn't not okay, but okay didn't begin to capture where he was at right now. “Holy shit, I need to pay you more.”

Mark laughed, pulling back to drop a kiss on Nicky's nose. Their eyes caught for a moment. Fondness. That's what it was. Not love, which was fair because they'd only known each other for about five days, but something else. Something safe, and accepting that quite frankly scared the hell out of him because he suspected he was giving that look back.

“What in the hell are we doing?” Nicky murmured. Mark snatched the words away with a kiss. “This is mad.”  
  
“This is great.” The kisses were travelling away from his lips, flickering up Nicky's cheek to his brow. “We need to do this all the time.”

“We need to never stop doing this.” God, the drinking was making him chatty. He needed to stop before he said something really stupid.

“I can't promise that.” The back of Mark's fingers ran down his arm, a little bit teasing and a little bit soothing. Nick rested his face in the younger boy's neck, breathing in the smell of both of them. “The boss might want me to show up to work occasionally.”

Nicky couldn't help but laugh. Mark laughed back, the movement making him shift inside Nicky. They both groaned at the same time, Mark's eyes fluttering shut.

“I'm going to need to come in a minute.” He put his head on Nicky's shoulder. Nicky's thighs were beginning to shake with the effort of clinging on to him. But Mark was solid, his feet tucked underneath, thighs spread slightly to give Nicky a place to sit. “You feel really, really good.” Nicky kissed him. Really, really kissed him, taking stock of Mark's mouth, feeling their tongues press together, then entwine. The way Mark was beginning to shudder every time he moved.

“Are you going to come again?” Mark whispered. It was so straightforward, but so unexpectedly erotic at the same time. Nicky nodded, despite himself. He couldn't not. Mark slipped a hand between them. “I want you to come.” Nicky cried out, his back heaving desperately, the pressure unbearable already. “Fuck, you're hard.”  
  
Nicky agreed. He was. He didn't know how, with how drunk he was, but he couldn't remember how not to be. Suspected he'd been hard pretty much since Mark had walked into the room four days ago for that first showing.

Then Mark was breathing in his ear, and tipping him back to get some leverage, and Nicky was throwing a leg up over his shoulder and coming so hard he couldn't remember where he was. And Mark was making a noise and biting his shoulder, his hands everywhere and nowhere, his hips moving like his life depended on it, and Nicky was just about bent in half, his toes twitching in the air above Mark's back.

And then there was a gentle cloth on his stomach, and a kiss on his cheek, and arms around his waist, and he was so safe and warm he wanted to cry.

But he slept instead.

 

*

 

They got up. Nicky went to shower. Mark stripped the bed. It felt a bit like work, but the room really did stink, and he'd woken up with dried spunk caked on his back from rolling in a puddle. Not that he was upset. If he was honest, he couldn't keep the smile off his face. They hadn't said much of anything to each other. It was awkward, Mark got that. He'd slept with his boss, Nicky had slept with an employee he still hadn't decided to keep, though Mark suspected it was probably a moot point by now. He'd brought in a ton of business. Had been fucked ragged all week, had even brought in a couple for the other boys.

Not that he was bragging, but he was a bit of an asset.

Nicky hadn't kissed him when they'd woken, but considering they'd had a total of three hours sleep and were both still pretty fucked up, that wasn't really surprising. He was still drunk, he was sure, could hear Nicky throwing up in the shower.

He made coffee, took one in to Nicky, then went to shower in the upstairs bathroom.

 

*

 

There was a steaming coffee already sitting on the chest of drawers when Nicky staggered back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He sat down to drink it, the first sips tentative until he was sure he wasn't going to throw up again. When it was all gone he collapsed back, feeling muscles stretch for the first time in months. The twinge in his arse that suggested maybe he'd gone too fast too soon. The twinge in his stomach that made him think maybe it hadn't been the best idea to do any of it.

The shower was running upstairs. For the first time, Nicky realised there were clean sheets on his bed.

He'd been fucking maided!

He held back a laugh. It was bloody brilliant. The sheets were crisp. He turned over to rub his face into them, smelling the fresh linen, feeling the stretch from the night before. He was tired, hungover, and seriously doubting his own sanity.

He felt bloody fantastic.

 

*

 

Breakfast was greasy and covered in tomato sauce, Mark made sure of it, wolfing down two platefuls of it and glad he didn't have any appointments until the early afternoon. Nicky managed a bit, dozed at the table for a bit, then managed a bit more. They exchanged a few smiles, none of which were particularly sexually charged, but none that made him think it had been a horrible mistake.

Kian was surprisingly level when he came in. A little bit tired, maybe, but far more functional than the both of them. He was talking very loudly, though.

Mark kind of wanted to hit him.

He felt too good to hit anyone.

The day went smoothly enough. He had a couple of easy jobs in the afternoon, tried to put enough of himself into it to avoid just going through the motions, but he could feel himself flagging by four. Nicky had fallen asleep on the couch around midday. They'd let him sleep, Mark only waking him when a client was due and moving him through to the bedroom and tucking him back in. Nicky smiled sleepily, let Mark kiss him on the cheek, and was snoring before Mark could leave the room.

Kian made fun of them for being hungover. They watched some TV. Nicky woke back up for Mark's 6pm session but Mark got the feeling he'd just done the usual check in instead of watching it properly. Nicky and Kian had been deep in conversation when he came back down, and appeared to have been so for a while.

Kian went home. It was after ten. Nicky was wide awake. All Mark wanted to do was pass out.

“Bed?”

Mark nodded sleepily, beginning to head toward the stairs. Nicky took his elbow, guided him through to his own bedroom. Mark kissed him. Nicky kissed back. Tucked him in, went back out to watch TV.

He was woken around midnight by Nicky coming to bed, spooning around him. Mark took Nicky's hand and tucked it against his chest, kissing the fingers. A kiss landed on the back of his neck.

“Night.” Nicky whispered. Mark murmured it back.

And slept.


	8. Monday

Nicky woke up spitting out Mark's hair.

Mark snuffled in his sleep, stirred, rolled over to press his face into Nicky's chest, and went back to sleep. Nicky stroked his hair. It was still early, but he felt the most awake he had in ages. According to his alarm clock it was only six-thirty. Nicky didn't think he could sleep for another second.

He got up carefully to avoid waking Mark. The boy had looked wrecked by the time he'd gone to bed, with deep bags under his eyes. A great combination of too much booze followed by not enough sleep and a whole day's work.

Nicky knew from personal experience how that felt.

He put on coffee, figuring maybe he'd make Mark one. It would be a bit novel, waiting on him for once.

His hand paused on the handle of the kettle.

This was all going so fast.

He sat down at the kitchen table, the coffee forgotten, trying to get his thoughts in order. He hadn't had a chance to think the day before. He'd been asleep half the day, and the rest of the time Mark had been in with clients. Fucking other men. Which Nicky paid him to do. Because Nicky was his boss. And Mark was a whore.

Nicky didn't think he was jealous. That wasn't really the issue. He'd been in enough relationships with other sex workers and knew exactly how the client relationship went. He wasn't going to be one of those idiots who said it was fine when it was all glamour and then got green-eyed when they actually saw their boyfriends taking it for cash. He really didn't mind that, couldn't even hold any envy for Shane, who had gotten there first. That was just business.

But Mark worked for him. Was paid to fuck.

Mark worked for him.

He thought he had already decided to keep Mark days ago, when the rafts of clients had started to come in. Guys who were willing to pay plenty of money for something Mark was good at. That was great. Nicky could sell that. It was definitely helping deal with some of the worst of his expenses.

Mark was great business.

Mark was a great fuck.

Nicky had a feeling Mark would be a great boyfriend.

Which just ridiculous. Because he'd known Mark for a total of seven days now. Had known Mark intimately for less than two. He didn't really know Mark. Except that he was sweet and caring and thoughtful and a little bit shy and uncertain until you got to know him. Except that he made Nicky coffee every morning and made sure he got sleep and bought groceries just because. Because. Because he was grateful and wanted to do the right thing.

But hell, Shane helped out, so did Kian. They worked for him. He could, quite honestly and without any sense of arrogance, fuck either of them whenever he wanted. But it wasn't the same. It was friendly and comforting, yeah, but when Mark looked at him wih electric, wide eyes, when Mark had just held him during a storm. It was different. He could admit that.

Admit that he couldn't stop watching the monitors whenever Mark was on them.

That when Mark had entered him, he'd felt like he was flying.

“Nicky?” Mark was half asleep. His lips and cheeks were flushed. His eyes weren't quite open, his baggy t-shirt was half twisted. Nicky realised he'd never made the coffee.

“Hey, kid.” Nicky heard himself lapsing back into old habits. If Mark had noticed, he didn't say anything, just set about turning the kettle back on and making coffee. For Nicky. “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah.” Mark sat across from him, lifting an apple to his mouth. “Feel much better after yesterday, I know that much. You recover alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Mark took another bite. Swallowed. He was looking at Nicky, but Nicky wasn't sure what to do back. “What's the plan for today?”

“Erm...” Nicky stood up, went to the corkboard in the corner behind Mark. A hand brushed his. He curled his fingers into it automatically. “You've got another two regulars.” It wasn't many, but Mondays were always slow. “Kian's got a new guy and Shane's got three this afternoon.

“Cool.” Mark was still holding his hand. Nicky didn't let go. “It's still early. What do you want to do until then?”

 

*

 

They ended up laying on the couch. Mark had a client in less than three hours, so he didn't exactly want to waste it. He'd offered to bring Nicky off, and as tempting as it was, Nicky didn't like the idea of it being one-sided. It made him feel more like he was paying for something. So they just lay there, kissing occasionally, Nicky draped across Mark with his head on his chest and fingers stroking his hair and neck and back. It was lovely.

It was just... lovely.

Nicky heard the front door open. There wasn't time to move.

“Well this is nice.” They were half up, Nicky kneeling over Mark. It was too late. Shane was already standing in the doorway, twirling his sunglasses in one hand and looking smug. “Thought you had a policy, Nix?”

“Erm...” Nicky climbed off. Sat down. Very very aware of Mark sitting next to him, not touching, not speaking. “You're here early.”

“Yeah, thought I'd come in to do a bit of work on the accounts before I started. I can go do that, if you want to get back to it?”

“Erm...” Nicky said again. “No. Uh. Mark was about to go get us some coffee, yeah?”

Mark just about fled the room. Shane watched him go, smirking. When he looked back, Nicky couldn't meet his eyes.

“If it helps, I won't tell Kian.” Shane sat down in the space Mark had vacated, tossing his sunglasses on the coffee table. “So how'd that happen, then? Close proximity, having a bit a perve on the telly, then you fell on his cock?”

Nicky put his face in his hands, feeling himself turn red. But Shane was laughing. That was probably a good sign.

“It's none of my business, mate. Are we keeping him?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Nicky admitted. “Not because of that.” He added. “He makes us money, right? Has lots of clients. And like... I can't exactly kick him out now, can I? Then I'd be even more of a bastard than if I kept him.” He groaned out loud. He could hear noise in the kitchen, teaspoons and mugs clattering around the place, the boiling water. “He makes me coffee...”

“Well I've shagged blokes for less.” A hand landed on Nicky's shoulder. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I don't know.” Nicky sighed, dropping his hands between his knees. “This wasn't supposed to happen. We got drunk and then suddenly... I don't know. I don't even know who started it. I just couldn't help it. I know I'm not supposed to. I held off so fucking long. Kian practically threw himself at me, and I held off. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“So he's a substitute Kian?”

“No.” No, definitely not. He and Kian would never have worked out in a million years. That ship was going down before it even got in the water. But what made him think Mark was a good idea? That anything was in a position to work out? They'd shagged one time, slept together twice, and kissed maybe half-a-dozen times. What made him think it was even getting to that point? “And it's not just the sex. Which it could be. I mean, you've seen him. Shagged him. It's...”

“Pretty great?”

Those words didn't seem big enough somehow.

“Pretty great.” Nicky agreed. “Maybe I'm just lonely. Tired. Latching onto the first thing that comes along. I don't know, Shane. I don't think that's it, somehow.”

Mark came back with the coffee before he could say what he really thought it was, which was that he wanted to crawl into Mark's skin, build a campfire, prop a tent, and never leave.

 

*

 

Shane disappeared into the office with his coffee after about five minute of awkward small-talk, clapping Mark on the shoulder on the way past. Mark wasn't sure what that meant, but at least Shane didn't appear to be throwing a tantrum. Not that he seemed the tantrum type.

Nicky was still staring at him

“Everything all right?” Mark was about to ask if he had something on his face, but knew that wasn't it. “Shane okay?”

“Shane's fine.” Nicky bit his lip. “Kian'll be here soon. We should probably get ready.”

“Okay.” Mark wanted to be out of the room all of sudden. He stood up, tipped his coffee down the sink, then went to clean the rooms.

 

*

 

Mark was in room four. Shane knew, because he'd switched on the nanny cam, listening out in case Nicky came in. He had started tidying, had run a dustbuster around the windowsill, made the bed, and then just stopped. Turned. Laid down on the bed, arms behind his head, his face a mask of melancholy. He wasn't crying, it wasn't all that dramatic, but he just looked... sad. Lonely.

Kian was banging through the front door. Nicky called out for them to come down to the kitchen for a morning catch-up.

Shane watched. Mark got up, straightened the bed, ran a hand over his face. He stopped at the bedroom door. Took a deep breath.

There were feet on the stairs a moment later.

 

*

 

Mark got on with it. He had an early booking, it went fine. Tom's visits had been stepping up lately. What had gone from maybe three times a year was turning into once a month, and Mark had seem him twice this week, a new record. He still cried a bit, but he was getting comfortable enough to kiss a little bit, maybe have a bit of a fumble.

Mark didn't mind. He was a nice guy, and it was nice to feel needed.

He paid in cash. That was fine too. He had a family, and even though his wife had passed on the year before, Mark suspected it was probably a comforting thing, keeping the whole thing off the books. It was probably why the sessions had stepped up. Though Mark also suspected Tom felt even more guilty now he didn't have anyone to hide it from.

They talked for a bit. Tom's oldest grand-daughter was starting university. He hadn't seen her in a while, but hoped she'd come to his birthday lunch in a few weeks. Then Mark let him watch while he jerked off, taking it slow so the guy could see everything.

Tom left looking happier. Mark was glad.

It was still mid-morning. Nicky was off in his office again. Mark wasn't sure if he'd watched. He wasn't sure if he minded either way. But the door was closed and it made Mark's stomach twist. Nicky obviously thought the whole thing had been some horrible mistake. It hadn't felt that way at the time, it had felt marvellous. Nicky was beautiful in bed, and Mark liked him. Loved him? No, that would be mad. But he respected the way Nicky was, the care he had for he, Shane and Kian. The way he ran himself ragged to make them feel secure, even at the expense of his own sanity. The way he could see Nicky falling apart, a little bit at a time, his heart cracking with the lines around his eyes.

Mark wanted to... he didn't know. Take Nicky out, maybe. He really didn't know. Tuck him up into bed and make sure he was okay. Wanted what they'd had that morning, wrapped up on the couch, breathing in rhythm. The way Nicky had sighed, and kissed him.

And then the look in Nicky's eyes when Shane had walked in.

Horror. Embarassment. Regret.

Mark got it. You weren't supposed to get involved with the staff. He knew it happened. Bryan certainly did it from time to time when he was in the mood, but it was never anything else. Bryan got his dick sucked once in a while, chucked a bonus into the kitty, but he didn't demand anything. He respected that sex was business. You probably got a discount off bread and milk if you worked at the supermarket. This wasn't much different.

He didn't get involved.

Mark was pretty sure he was involved.

Kian was upstairs with some sort of light S&M session. He wasn't sure who was the S and who was the M. He didn't much care. Right now all he wanted to do was lean his head back against the couch cushions and go to sleep.

He didn't know. Even if this was a thing, even if Nicky managed to shake off the awkwardness and get back to kissing him, what then? Were they going out? Were they going to figure that out while Mark fucked other people upstairs? Was Mark still going to live here, knowing Nicky was putting him up as a favour, owning him a little bit? Was he going to sleep in Nicky's bed every night or keep crashing upstairs and making sure he was cleared out before eight, even on his days off?

Could he keep his mind on the job, knowing what had happened in this house? In Nicky's bed? That he'd stripped the sheets off Nicky's bed the same way he had when Shane had finished spanking a stranger, when Kian had sucked off a middle-aged executive whose suit had probably cost more than this house?

Or was he just fucking kidding himself?

“You look like you're taking a shit.” Shane had come in at some point. Mark wasn't sure when. He was sitting in the armchair and eating a banana. “You want an enema or something?”

Mark relaxed his face, feeling the way his muscles had been all squished up. He reached out for the day's paper. Nicky had left it on the coffee table. He opened it to the real-estate section.

“Sorry. No. Thinking.”

“Oh. Looking for a place?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. A lot of them were the same places he'd seen already, but there were a couple of new listings within his price range. “Can't keep mooching here forever.” Shane didn't reply, just gave him that cock-eyed fucking meaningful look. “I was only trialled for a week, and it's been a week, so...”

“You don't think you're gonna stay?”

Mark shrugged. He wasn't sure.

“Where you gonna go then? Back to Bryan's?”

Mark shook his head, flipping the pages of the paper. “I don't think so. No.”

“You two have a falling out?”

Mark shook his head again, realising that Shane didn't know the circumstances of his departure. He wasn't even sure if Nicky knew the details, just knew that Bryan had sorted it out. He hadn't really felt the need to say anything. “No. I just can't work there any more.”

“How come?”

Mark sighed. Put down the paper. Shane was still looking expectant.

“I had an incident. With a client.” He took a deep breath, not realising that he really hadn't spoken about it before now. Bryan had danced around it. Had been remarkably sensitive and tactful, even when he was basically firing him over it. He'd appreciated it at the time, but he'd really had no-one to talk to about it. Who was he going to tell? A therapist? He wasn't that messed up over it. Thought about it surprisingly little. But it felt too big to talk to his friends about. The downer at the party. This stupid thing that had happened, had ended, and was still hanging over his head like a black balloon.

“What, you punch someone? Bit down too hard?”

“No. I.” He took another deep breath. “I got tied to a sink and raped while he beat me up.”

Silence. Mark kind of wanted to cry. He didn't know why. Maybe just that he'd said it out loud, made it real. It wasn't just that thing that had happened to someone else. The face he'd seen in the mirror came back to him in stark detail. His split lip, black eyes. They'd healed up quickly enough. He'd tried not to look in the mirror too much and it had gone away eventually.

“Fuck, Mark.”

“I'm okay.” He was. This week had been one of the easiest of his career. A change of scenery, some familiar faces. Nicky.

“Yeah, but fuck.”

“I'm okay.” Mark said again. “I just... I can't go back to Bryan's. It's too raw.”

“What the hell happened?”

“I don't know.” Mark admitted. He really didn't. “We had our own bathrooms and he said he wanted a bath, so I said cool. But then he hit me, and my head cracked off the toilet and when I woke up I was tied down on the floor and he was hitting me.” The bootlaces had cut into his wrists. He could remember that. “I couldn't get to the panic button, and by the time someone came up to check I was unconscious and he was gone.”

“Did they catch him?”

“Yeah, eventually. Got charged with assault. Apparently they'd been looking for him for a bit. He'd beaten up a guy behind a club the week before. Just some violent, homophobic psychopath, and I got lucky.”

“That's a way to put it.” Shane let out a low, whistling breath. “Shit. I don't even know what to say.”

“Don't worry about it.” Mark attempted a comforting smile. Shane looked more upset than he felt. “I try not to dwell on it. It was a few months ago. I just... can't go back to Bryan's. I don't think he'd have me, anyway.”

“Are you going to stay?”

“I don't know.” Mark looked at his hands. “I'd like to. I like it here.”

“I like having you here. You're good for Nicky.”

Mark snorted a laugh. He couldn't help himself. “I don't know if that's how Nicky would put it.”  
  
“Nicky's an idiot. He likes you more than he thinks he does, he's just too stupid to know it.” Shane was blunt. Mark kind of appreciated it. “He's a good bloke with a big heart and not much fucking sense. And...” Shane moved over next to Mark, lowering his voice. “I don't want you to think this is me coercing you or trying to guilt you. It's not. But you should know... I've been doing his money and if you leave, I reckon this place will be closed within six months. Maybe it's self-interest, but I want you to stay. He needs you. We need you. He's up to his eyeballs in debt, and he doesn't want us to know. I think that's why he stopped me looking at the accounts for so long. But he's desperate. You bring in clients. Hell, if things keep going the way they are, we'll be breaking even soon.”

“I hardly know the guy, Shane. I hardly know you.”

“Yeah. I'm not gonna guilt you. You don't owe us any favours and I don't expect you to come in and save us all. I'll probably be out of here in six months anyway, if I'm honest, once I finish my course and start working. But Nicky...” He swallowed. “Where you gonna go, anyway? You going to go flip burgers for seven euro an hour?”

Mark sighed. He didn't know.

Kian came back down. Shane went up. Shane came down. Mark went up. He took care of a really nice guy who spent the whole time blushing and saying 'sorry' for random things. He didn't want to fuck, just wanted a bit of intercrural, and Mark was cool with that. Was able to put his head down, squeeze his thighs together and be generally encouraging until cum was dripping down the inside of his legs and the client was apologising through his orgasm.

Nicky was sitting at the kitchen table when he came down. Shane was using the upstairs shower, so Mark asked if he could duck into Nicky's. Nicky nodded vaguely. Kept reading the paper when Mark came back out and made him a coffee.

Nicky stared at the mug for a long moment.

“I don't know what to do.” Nicky said quietly. Mark looked up. Nicky didn't, his eyes locked, unfocused, onto the paper. “What do you want to do?”

“About what?” Them? The job? World hunger?

“Anything.” Nicky glanced at him, eyes flicking away almost straight away. “Fuck. I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“You sorry about the other night?”

Nicky put down the paper, finally. Sat back in his chair. Looked at Mark, arms crossed over his chest. He studied him for a long moment. Mark felt a self-conscious shiver go through him. Like claws up his back. And Nicky was still fucking staring at him.

“No. I don't know. No.”

“So what are you sorry about?”

“I don't know. Shane finding out, maybe. Or not even that. I feel like I've let you lot down.”

“How?”

“I don't know. I'm supposed to be in charge, but the last week I've been... I feel like everyone's doing everything for me. Shane's sorting out my money, because I can't. You're tucking me into bed, for god's sake. This isn't good enough. And maybe, yeah, I could blame you. But I don't because... you make things okay. And you shouldn't, because I don't know you. But...” Mark reached out, his hand worming into Nicky's crossed arms to grab a hand. Nicky didn't squeeze back, but he didn't push Mark away, either. “I'm tired. I'm really really tired.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Nicky snorted out a broken laugh. “I want to say if you could just take me to bed and maybe fuck my brains out for an hour or so that'd be a big help. But it wouldn't be, and then I'd just feel worse.”

It was Mark's turn to sit back and cross his arms. He studied Nicky.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Yeah. No.” Nicky shook his head. “Do you want to stay?”

“Yeah. No.”

“Mmm. Well, we're on the same page.” Nicky closed his eyes. Opened them. “I want to get you things, take you places. I don't want to feel like some sort of pimp when I do it. I want to make a whole lot of money off you, because honestly, you're phenomenal in bed and you're really good at what you do. And that's selfish, yeah. Because I like you. I want to make you coffee in the mornings and tuck you into bed, because honestly, watching you sleep last night was about the most comfortable I've felt in a long time.”

“So you want to take a nap with me?”

“A bit, yeah.” Nicky laughed. Not a damaged, confused laugh. Just one that was open and pure and a little bit scared. He reached out a hand. Mark took it. “But right now I have to go check on Kian, then I have to sort out a bulk order for condoms because the company I usually use has changed its delivery policy. And then I've got to check in with Shane to see if he can take a short-notice buggering in about an hour, because some guy's called in to see if he can change his appointment.”

“And then?”

“Exactly. And then.”

“When was the last time you had a day off?”

“Christmas Day.” Nicky replied promptly. Mark's jaw dropped. “It's cool. I live here. There's no-one to run it when I'm not here. It's just what it is.”

“What about Shane?”

“Shane has his own thing. He's studying. It's not his job.”

“You're mental.” Nicky shrugged, as if he already knew. “You're gonna run yourself into the ground.” Nicky shrugged again, as if he already had. Mark reached out to touch his face, his other hand still holding Nicky's. “You ever think about giving it up? Just... doing something else?”

“Do you?”

“No.” Mark shook his head. “No. Maybe later, when I get a bit older and want to settle down or something. But even then.... no. I like what I do.”

“So do I.” Nicky was just about whispering now. “I just don't remember why.” A tear ran down his nose. Mark brushed it away with his thumb.

“You want to go have a nap?”

Nicky took a deep breath, hesitated. “No. No I need to get stuff done.”

“Okay.” Mark brushed the next tear away too, feeling his heart hurt. “You want some help? There has to be something I can do.”

“Just stay.” Nicky said quietly, turning his face to press a kiss Mark's thumb. It tingled up his hand and into his shoulder, making directly for his aching heart. Mark felt himself panic a little bit, glow a little bit. “Another few days, I know... I know I said a week and I don't know what this is but... Just stay. Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Mark agreed.

 

*

 

There was a rush at the end of the day. Nicky was glad. A lad's night at the club up the road had resulted in all three boys getting jobs at the same time. Nicky sat in his office, relishing the silence, flicking between the three cameras every few minutes to keep himself busy. All three were fine. He lingered on Mark for a moment, half-hoping Mark would look up at the camera, but he had his hands full and kept his eyes on the job.

They left not long after. It was after eleven. Mark was yawning when he slipped on his pyjamas, but looked deliciously comfortable and relaxed, with mussed hair and a sleepy warmth that Nicky couldn't help but cuddle up to. They got into bed. Nicky kissed Mark's damp hair. He smelled like shampoo. Mark hummed softly, already half-asleep, his head on Nicky's chest, arm around his waist.

“Night Nicky.” He murmured.

“Night.” Nicky whispered back. “And thanks.”

But Mark was already asleep.


	9. Tuesday Again

Nicky woke up with Mark's mouth on his cock.

He tried to make a noise, but his voice was still clogged with sleep. He cleared his throat, then tried again.

“Jesus.”

Mark pulled off, his face a cheeky grin.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Nicky replied. “You... uh... awake?”

“Not as much as you are.” Mark opened his mouth wide, and Nicky got a flash of white teeth before he was engulfed again, warm wetness sliding effortlessly down, then back up again, a hand fisting him and rotating in the opposite direction that tongue was turning, twisting him like the best Chinese burn he'd ever had. Nicky held on, not sure if he was still asleep or not. Not really caring.

He heard himself, a litany of unintelligible sounds. Maybe some words. He didn't know. Felt Mark laugh around him, then let go.

“Hey.” Nicky was suddenly covered in warm, willing boy, the hair on Mark's legs tickling him where their legs tangled. “I was going to see if you wanted to fuck me.”

Mark had a big, stupid grin on his face. There weren't many things, Nicky thought, better than waking up with an excitable, gorgeous boy in your bed. Mark was practically bouncing on the bed.

“How much does that cost, then?” Nicky teased. Mark kissed him hard, all lips and teeth. It was messy and wonderful. Not breaking the kiss, Mark shuffled up to straddle Nicky's waist, rubbing into his belly. Hard and hot. For some reason, that was even better than being sucked, feeling this boy so totally aroused without him having to do anything. “Oh, that's nice.”

“It is.” Mark ground down, biting his lip when Nicky reached out to touch him. “It's very nice.” He produced a condom from one hand, like some obscene magician. Abra-fucking-cadabra. “But you should fuck me.” 

“Should I?”

“Definitely.” Mark agreed solemnly. He rubbed his nose against Nicky's, stuck his tongue out to playfully lick his top lip. “And very, very soon.”

“I'm not sure I like these demands.” Nicky licked back, then heard Mark grunt in surprise when he rolled them over, Mark wriggling underneath him. “You assume I want to fuck you. And you know what they say about assuming.”

“Something about you, me, and arse?” Mark suggested. He was pushing up now, trying to get Nicky to wiggle backwards on the bed. “Come on. I'm so fucking ready you have no idea.”

“And now you're calling me clueless?” Mark started to laugh in reply, then moaned out loud when Nicky shoved a finger in him, crooking it already and feeling Mark buck underneath him, the bead of sweat that ran down his own back. The morning was warm, and Nicky had shucked off his pyjamas sometime during the night. He was really glad he had.

“Fuck. Nicky.”

“Yeah.” Nicky agreed, adding a second finger. He hadn't had the pleasure of Mark's arse since they'd first met, and at the time he hadn't paid much more than professional interest. From a purely professional standpoint Mark was relaxed enough to be easy, tight enough to be good. From a purely personal standpoint, he was driving down onto Nicky's fingers and biting his lip and stroking himself and shit, Nicky had no idea how to look at all of him at once without sending himself mad.

Instead, he lined himself up and pushed in. Mark spread around him, tightened again. And yeah, he was definitely going mad.

 

*

 

Mark felt good. Had felt good since he'd woken up and seen the pretty tempting morning erection Nicky was sporting. Had felt even better when he'd slithered down the bed to breathe in Nicky's scent, blow a soft breath over the tiny hairs on the inside of his thigh. Had felt great when he'd nosed at Nicky's balls, feeling coarser hairs against his cheek. And then when he'd twisted his tongue around the head, got the taste on his tongue, felt Nicky's shudder and heard the soft, sleepy moan, that had felt pretty fantastic too.

And now he was past fantastic and into excellent. And when Nicky knocked his hand out of the way and began to stroke him, kissing his throat and thrusting with a teasing, rocking rhythm that made his head spin, he could see amazing nearing on the horizon.

Nicky was saying something that didn't sound like words. It sounded complimentary. Mark tilted his hips, driving back so Nicky nudged his prostate.

Yep. There it was.

Nicky echoed his cry, then shivered, his hips snapping forward in a jerky, uncontrolled rhythm. Mark pushed back again, felt the hand on him tighten, then squeeze, then twist and oh shit, he was coming. He was just fucking coming all over the place without meaning to, and Nicky's other hand was yanking at his hair, tugging him into an unforgiving kiss, gasping into his mouth and giving him breath, because he sure as hell couldn't catch his own.

“Huh.” He heard himself say it. Didn't remember meaning to. Nicky was plastered to him, stuck together by the cum cooling between them, Mark's softening cock crushed between them and Nicky's mouth open on his chin, where a laugh was vibrating against his skin.

Sod amazing. This was perfect.

The alarm went off. Nicky reached out to hit the snooze button. Sighed, snuggled back in.

 

*

 

They had a gropy shower. Mark slapped his arse on the way out, making Nicky squeak in surprise, the sensation bright and sharp compared to the lethargy sinking into his bones. Mark was humming to himself when he went upstairs to make the beds. Nicky made him a coffee.

Mark went to strip the sheets in the bedroom, but Nicky told him not to. All the mess had been caught between them anyway and besides, he quite liked the smell.

They split up when Shane and Kian got in, a silent agreement made to keep their hands off each other until they knew what the hell this thing they were doing was. Shane gave them a curious look anyway.

“Alright, lads?”

And maybe later, when Mark was upstairs and the other boys were getting a bite for morning tea, he poked his head back into the bedroom, breathed in a big lungful of sex, and then went to watch Mark fuck a stranger.

It was pretty great.

“So how's it going then?” Shane had his feet up on the coffee table. Nicky thought about scolding him, and then didn't bother. What was the point? “You look better today.”

“I feel better today.” Nicky couldn't help but smile. He couldn't stop fucking smiling. It was a little bit revolting.

“Like that, is it?”

“Like what?” Nicky deadpanned, then caught Shane's cheeky smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Glad for ya.” Shane started fiddling with the remote, flicking through channels. Nicky hated when he did that. He could never settle on one bloody thing. Nicky wasn't even sure he was noticing what was on or if he was just being random and scatterbrained. He made Shane stop it on a football game. Yeah, it was a bit delayed and Nicky already knew the score, but at least it was something to watch. “So I got a job interview.”

Nicky wasn't sure if his stomach plummeted through his arse or climbed up his throat.

“That's amazing, Shane.”

“Yeah, it is. It's at a really good firm in the city. Just a little position for now, but I'm thinking it could lead to better things.”

“I'm proud of you.” Nicky said honestly. He was. But shit. Shit. Things were just starting to look up and Shane was looking at leaving. He'd have Mark and Kian, and yeah he could maybe start hiring, but fuck. Fucking shit. Shit. “When's that, then?”

“Well, that's the thing. I was looking at my expenses and I was thinking I might hang around here for a bit. It'll be a pay cut, if I'm just starting out.”

“It's also a great opportunity.” Nicky knew he was about to start a lecture. “Shit, Shane. You turn this down, and then in five years you want to get out of the game and then what? You're better than this place. You've got a future. Maybe the rest of us'll be doing it for the rest of our lives, but this was never your thing. This was a summer job, at best. It just happened to stretch out for a couple of years.” Yep, this was definitely a lecture. “Seriously, Shane. If you don't quit this job, I'll fire you.” He saw Shane start to speak and cut him off. “And if you say a word about me needing you, I'll fire you for that too.”

“It's just an interview, Nix. I haven't got the job.”

“Yeah, but even if you don't, you're gonna get one. Don't hang around here like an eejit. And get your fucking feet off the coffee table.”

“I was thinking about going out on my own instead. Maybe starting my own business.”

“Then do that!” Nicky waved both hands at him, shooing him, his feet, he didn't know. Shane was laughing. “You're my fucking ugly duckling, turning into a swan. Fly the coop, like.”

“Ugly?”

“You know what I mean. Cinderella going to the ball. Thing. Metaphor! I don't know. Go for it!”

“Okay! Okay!” Shane still had his feet on the coffee table. Nicky wanted to hit him. “God, Nix, it was just an idea. Calm down! I've still got your books to finish anyway. I'm not going anywhere just yet.”

“Yeah, well I'm cutting your pay. You make nothing now. Go get a job.”

“Yeah, good luck. I've seen your bank account details. You don't have a choice.” Shane shot back. He stretched out in his chair, his heels streaking sweat across the glass of the table. “Anyway, speaking of your money, I've got a few ideas.”  


“Is it to make more money?”

“Sort of. You know how I've been saving for a bit? Trying to pay off my loans?” Nicky nodded. “Yeah, well, if I get a separate account earning interest I don't have to pay it off right away. In fact, if I stretch it out over a couple more years and use the right credit cards. I can actually save money. Which I guess is their mistake, for trying to sign an accountancy student up for a long term debt. But the point is, I've got quite a bit left over.”

“Hey, that's great!” Nicky congratulated him. It really was. Shane deserved it. “You gonna take a holiday or something?”

“No. Well. I was looking at maybe co-owning a business or something.”

“Oh, cool.” Fucking hell, but Shane was ambitious. Nicky remembered setting this place up. It hadn't been easy, still wasn't. You'd have to be mad. “What kind? Like a pub or something?”

“Well, I'd have to have a chat to the owner, but I've been working with some books at this place lately and I think it's got a lot of potential.” Shane was blushing a little bit now. Nicky couldn't figure it out. “So I was wondering if maybe you'd mind promoting me. To... uh... co-owner, like.”

Nicky didn't know how to respond to that. Was tempted to see if Ashton Kutcher was hiding behind the sofa. Had to resist checking the lamp for hidden microphones. Which didn't make sense. Ashton Kutcher was too tall to hide behind the couch.

“Nicky?”

“What?”

“Yeah, so... what do you think?” His feet were _still_ on the fucking coffee table. Nicky kicked out at them. He got a nervous smile in return.

“I think you need your head examined. You sure you're not thinking of Bryan's?”

“Big place? Flashy? Bleeds money? Nah.” Shane gestured around at the living room. At the peeling paint and the frayed rug and lumpy couch. “Seriously, though, Nix. I've looked the books over. It'll still be your place, like. I'm not looking to take it away from you. But there's a lot of potential and I dunno... this place has kind of been like home for me. I don't want it to go away. You and Kian mean the world to me.”

“Shay...”

“It's not a favour. It's a sound financial investment for my future.”  
  
“Sound, is it?”  
  
“It can be. Yeah. You not saying you don't want someone else pitching in? I can be, like... vice president. Lieutenant. I can take care of everything on your day off. I've actually really enjoyed helping out this week. Checking on people, booking clients and that. We're gonna need a few more people, obviously. It's not like Kian and Mark can do everything. Assuming Mark's staying of course.” Shane stopped, gave Nick another nervous smile. “So, yeah. That's what's going on with me. How... um... how are you doing?”

Nicky didn't know. He'd woken up getting his dick sucked, and now his brain was leaking out his ears.

“You can think about it, obviously.”

“I... you've got a client in about fifteen minutes.” Nicky managed. He didn't know how he felt about asking Shane to fuck a stranger now. It was the weirdest thing. Shane and Nicky. Nicky and Shane. Working together. He didn't know if he felt offended that Shane felt like he needed help or grateful that he was offering.

“I know. Ciaran. Should I go get ready?”

“...yeah. Yeah okay.”

Nicky was alone. He stood up, paced for a minute, running his hand over the back of the couch to keep himself grounded.

He felt like part of himself was silently rocking back-and-forth in his own head.

It made sense, he supposed. Shane had always liked to be far more involved than anyone else, had been supportive and calming when Nicky was in the worst of moods. Nicky supposed he hadn't noticed it at the time. Shane asking how to do the little details. Take money from the clients, check that they were up to legal code, how medicals and safety worked. It had just been little bits, over time, and Nicky had figured he just wanted to be helpful. Which he did. Which was great.

Nicky guessed maybe he should take it as a compliment. He'd only wanted to get into this business because he'd such a poor experience in other places and didn't much like the idea of freelancing. He wanted somewhere he could set the rules, make sure everyone was happy and safe. He liked the clients, liked the business, but his boys were his priority. Shane had been here for a year and wanted to stay, even though he didn't have to, so maybe his big stupid dream had been a success.

He was just shit with money. He'd done his best when he was starting out, making contacts and finding a place to run it and trying to check that all the legal stuff worked out, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't just nodded and signed at least half the time. Yeah, Shane wasn't a lawyer, but he could rip apart numbers and put them back together in a way that was practically surgical. He could find the loopholes in footnotes and the missing commas in every contract.

And Shane was a good friend.

It was a lot of independence to give up though. The help would be great, but if Shane was co-owner, he'd have ideas. Ideas that Nicky probably couldn't, in all fairness, say no to. Because they'd probably be great ideas. It was a lot of autonomy to lose, a lot of compromise to make. Shane wasn't going to turn this place into some garish strip-club, Nicky knew that. It wasn't his style.

This thing was collapsing around his ears, anyway. So what was the difference? They could both go down together. At least he might get an afternoon off before it happened.

He popped into the office to check the nanny cam. Kian was fine. He always was. Today he was fine at being covered in balloons and having Aaron pop them. Mark would be really impressed at having to pick multi-coloured rubber shreds out of the carpet. Maybe Nicky'd make Kian do it. They were his balloons after all.

Mark's was pretty standard by comparison. Good old boring doggy style. But he made it look interesting. Was good at getting involved and not just taking it. He was rocking back, saying something encouraging with a big, challenging smirk on his face. It was adorable.

His eyes flicked up to the camera for a second, and Nicky was absolutely sure he'd been dropped a wink. There was no way Mark could know if Nicky was there or not, had perhaps glanced over a few times while Nicky had been talking to Shane, but it still felt totally personal.

It was really nice.

 

*

 

Mark felt the shake of Shane's feet on the stairs, even though the room had pretty decent soundproofing. A lot of clients got weirded out if they could hear people fucking two rooms down, as though they had forgotten they were in a brothel or something. Kian was still in with his guy, so that left Nicky downstairs by himself.

He gave it a few minutes, heart racing. Not that it would make a difference either way, because if Nicky wasn't there he'd never know anyway. His customer was really sweaty, was dripping all over them. Mark was kind of glad he'd wanted to go from behind – he didn't have to end up with a mouthful or eyeful of sweat. He was an okay guy, and not bad looking. Just... damp.

He wondered if Nicky was watching, then looked over his shoulder, found the mirror in the corner, and winked.

He wondered if he'd been seen. Hoped he had. Then told the guy he was so huge it hurt, but to fuck him harder anyway. Because, well, compliments were always nice.

When he was done, he tidied his own room, then went around to Kian's to help him pick balloon bits out of the carpet. Kian didn't have to be asked, just hunkered down, and started at the other side of the room. He was still naked, but he didn't seem to mind, and Mark wasn't really looking. Nudity wasn't that impressive any more, hadn't been for years. Yeah, he could appreciate when someone was fit, which Kian definitely was, but getting all hot and bothered because he could see a bloke's arse was well and truly in the past.

Except for Nicky, obviously. But that was a whole different level of appreciation.

They chucked the last few bits in a plastic bag, and Kian went to have a clean up. Mark sorted out the bed. He'd fallen into a rhythm already. First thing in the morning he'd do all the dusting and that, the dishes, the bathrooms. Then it was just a matter of stripping the beds throughout the day, throwing all the laundry in about an hour before close, then finishing his last session if he had one, giving the beds a quick tidy so they were ready to go in the morning, then chuck the clean sheets in the dryer just before bed. Then wake back up and start all over again, with fresh sheets ready to go when the first booking was over.

He wouldn't say cleaning was his favourite thing, but the routine was comforting.

He went to make coffee once he was done. He still had about forty-five minutes until his next client. It was quite a busy day, actually. He had two already, and four more for the rest of the afternoon. Not the most he'd taken in a day. The record was still thirteen, but that had been on overtime when he'd been looking to put in a deposit for a car loan, a car he'd never ended up actually buying. It had been a really long day, but as a personal achievement it had been kind of exhilarating.

Nicky looked up when he came in, his eyes troubled. Mark felt his heart hurt a little bit.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking.” The smile he gave was welcoming, anyway. Mark took the opportunity to plonk himself up on Nicky's desk, crossing his legs like some sort of slutty secretary. Nicky raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Just bringing the boss his coffee.”

“The boss is grateful.” Nicky took the mug, took a sip. “The boss could also murder a sandwich if we've still got any of those sausages left.”

Mark hopped back off the desk. “The boss is a slavedriver.”

“The boss also wants brown sauce.” Nicky poked him, pushing him away. “And a bit of lettuce and cheese if we've got it.” Mark turned around when he reached the door, just wanting a last look. Nicky looked... well, not carefree, but he was smiling over a mouthful of a coffee, already turned back to his computer. As Mark watched, he looked up.

And winked.

Mark laughed, pleased and surprised, and blew a kiss back. Then he went to make Nicky's damn sandwich.

 

*

 

Nicky was out the back smoking a cigarette when Kian found him. He'd considered just lighting up in his office, but he'd been doing that too much lately and he'd needed to collect his thoughts. It was as he stood leant against the bricks, listening to the dryer run on the other side of the wall, that he realised this was the first time he'd stood in the sunlight in about six months.

No wonder he was so fucking pale lately.

Kian gave his cigarette a concerned look, but Nicky wasn't going to hide it, not from people that were supposed to answer to him. He had to keep some sort of status, at least, even if they walked all over him the rest of the time. He'd damn well smoke if he damn well wanted.

Nicky nodded a hello. Kian shuffled in beside him, wedged between Nicky and a rusty overflow pipe.

“Bum one?”

Nicky handed him the packet, surprised, then held out the lighter while Kian lit up and took a drag. Coughed.

“You don't smoke.”

“No, not usually.” Kian wiped his mouth. Coughed again. Took another puff. “Neither do you, though.”

“It's good to learn new things.”

“Yeah. Well. It's usually just when I'm bladdered or really stressed. I don't think I've had one in about a year.”

“So which one is it today?”

“Oh, I'm drunk, can't you tell?” Kian elbowed him. Nicky elbowed back. Stubbed out the remains of his cigarette and resisted the urge to light another one.

“What are you stressed about?”

“Nothing really.” Kian leant his head back against the wall, looking up at the sparrow that had just landed on the gutters above Room 4 and was pecking around for scraps. Nicky was sure they had a nest somewhere in the roof. Another bloody problem to deal with. “Not stressed. Something. I dunno. Jake called me his boyfriend last night.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, maybe. I'm not sure.” Kian stubbed his cigarette, then dropped it to stamp it into the dirt. There was still half of it left. “Sorry, I'll pick that up when we go in. You got any mints?”

“Inside.” Nicky confirmed. “So is he your boyfriend?”

Kian pursed his lips. “No. Maybe. I popped round to his last night after work and his housemate was still awake. And he said 'this is my boyfriend Kian' and I didn't really correct him. I like him, I guess, and we've seen a lot of each other this week, but I don't know if it's that serious. Maybe I should have said something, but it felt a bit awkward, being like 'not your boyfriend' in front of his housemate. He didn't make anything of it, like. It was just kind of... surprising.”

“Good surprising?”

“Yeah. Once I stopped panicking, it was a bit. I do really like him. He's a nice guy and he doesn't make a thing out of my job. Which at first was a bit weird too, like I was thinking maybe if he doesn't mind he doesn't really care, or maybe he's gonna be shagging other people and think it's okay because of what I do. Not that I think we're exclusive or anything. It's only been a couple of weeks. But... like, I think I'd be a bit hurt if he was shagging other people.” He blushed a little bit, tried to hide it by watching the sparrow jump from the gutter to the tree next to the house. Nicky looked idly for the nest, couldn't see it. “It's kind of cool. He asks me about my day, you know, and he looks interested. And not in a pervy way, just like it's a day at the office and here's this weird thing that happened or someone said this, and then he's like 'oh I sold this guy a tie today and this happened'. It was kind of weird, talking about it at first. It's been a really long time since I could talk to someone about it. Someone who's not in the industry, like.”

Nicky nodded. He understood.

“Sorry, I'm talking your ear off.”

Nicky reached out to put an arm around his shoulder. Kian leaned in, warm and friendly. “Bet you're glad you didn't give me that blowjob now.”  


Kian laughed. “I guess, yeah. You look better this week anyway. You getting it from somewhere else?”

Nicky shrugged. “Getting more sleep, maybe.”  
  
“Mark's definitely helped with that.” 

Nicky replied carefully, not making eye contact. “How d'ye mean?”

“You've just been a bit more chilled since he's been around. I know I wasn't sold on him at first, but I like the way he pitches in. Takes the pressure off a bit.”

“Room and board. I'm wily like that.”

“Yeah, that's not all of it though.” Kian pushed off the wall. “I know we were in trouble. Are we still?”

“Things are getting better.” Nicky kept his face straight, trying not to reveal too much. He was surprised Kian even knew, though he suspected his own sad fucking attitude the last few months had given it away. No wonder Bryan was so fucking happy all the time. Money didn't buy happiness, but it certainly greased the wheels. “I don't know, but I think we'll be okay.”

“Is Mark staying?”

“I hope so.” Nicky said honestly. “I really, really do.”

 

*

 

Warm, firm hands guided Nicky into the shower. Kian and Shane had just left, and he was bloody knackered. It had been a long day. Mark looked tired too. Nicky had considered cutting Mark's appointments back, something he had never needed to do before, but the kid had shaken his head, said he was fine, and then gone back to work. He was a bloody superhero.

“Tired.” He muttered. Mark made a sound of agreement, pulled Nicky back to lean against him and began to kiss his neck. Nicky moaned softly, not wanting much else, just enjoying the gentle touch. “S'nice.” He murmured, feeling strong fingers knead his back. “You can keep doing that.”

“Oh, cheers.” Mark laughed, moving one hand to slap Nicky's hip, then grabbing the shampoo. “I've got a day off tomorrow.”

“What you gonna do?” Fingers stroked through his hair, spreading suds. It was lovely. And look at that, having his hair washed was a new kink. Mark had obviously noticed too, slipping one slick, foamy hand down to administer a teasing, slippery stroke. That was pretty lovely as well.

“Sleep in. Got a doctor's appointment for my checks.” Nicky nodded. He insisted on health checks every two months. Not that there had ever been a problem. Safe sex was non-negotiable. Every client got checked for rashes and the like at the start of each session, but it was always good to be sure. “Thought I'd go look at some more flats.”

“You moving out?”

There was a moment of silence while Mark nudged him gently under the flow of water to wash the shampoo out. Nicky rested his hands on the tiles, feeling himself start to relax.

“Am I?” Mark asked finally. Nicky shook his head.

“Not if you don't want to.”  
  
“Do you want me to?”

“Not really.” Nicky turned around, careful on the slippery tiles. Picked up the shampoo that Mark had replaced on the shelf and squirted a bit into his hand. Mark was taller than him, but he wasn't going to let the man do everything for him, even if he did just about need a footstool. Mark ducked his head forward obligingly, letting Nicky begin to massage it into his hair. “Who else is going to get my coffee?”

“It's a good point.” Mark leant his forehead against Nicky's shoulder, giving him easy access. “I don't want to come in at nine and find you asleep on the desk again.”

“The traffic getting here's murder.”

“I'll never be there anyway. It'll just be a place to put my stuff.”

“You were living at Bryan's. What stuff do you have?”

“Exactly.” Mark kissed his shoulder, comfortable. “I should probably get some stuff.”

“You could keep it here.”

“But then what will I put in my flat?”

“What flat?” Nicky kissed his ear, not caring about the soapy taste on his lips. He tugged forward until they were under the water, began to wash the shampoo back out. The water beat down on both of them, and Nicky turned his face into Mark's neck to stop himself drowning. Hands ran up his back.

“What flat?” Mark repeated.


	10. Later

Nicky leaned back against the chain-link fence, watching the moving guys work. The place was bigger, no doubt, with six bedrooms, four with en suites. He wasn't sure he even had enough stuff to put in them. His old desk was coming up the driveway now, followed by half a bed, two brand new lounge chairs and a reception desk.

A bloody reception desk.

Shane was a fucking miracle. Nine months ago, Nicky was pretty sure he was making a horrible mistake, signing over half the business, but it had gone from strength to strength. Shane did the books, Nicky did the front of house. Mark and Kian did the customers. They'd had to hire four more guys to keep up with demand, and within a month Kian and Mark were both taking two days off a week. Sometimes even the same day. Nicky had a day off too. He hadn't known what to do with himself, so he'd taken Mark to the beach and bought them both ice-cream. It was horribly cliché, and he'd loved every moment of it, especially when they'd snuck under the pier and messily made out like extras from Grease. Mark had tasted like rocky road.

When he'd gotten back home, everything had been fine. He wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved.

Nicky liked the new guys. He didn't think he'd ever be able to hire people he didn't like. It was the part he'd always wanted to do. Hang out with his guys, make sure they were safe and happy, make sure the clients were safe and happy. Give them the environment he'd always wanted for himself. It was like having a family.

It was full of condoms, lube and things that vibrated, but it was home.

And every now and then, when Shane was on a break and he had a moment to himself, he'd sneak into the office, flick on the monitors, and just watch Mark.

The fence next to him sagged, making him look up. He got a cocky smirk in return.

“Just gonna lean here all day?”

“I'm supervising.”

“You couldn't supervise while holding the other end of Shane's desk?” A kiss dropped on his lips. He smiled into it, reaching up to run his hand down a stubbly jaw. Mark had been off all week, helping with the moving arrangements, and he hadn't bothered to shave. Nicky had to admit he quite liked it. It made him look rougher, but prettier at the same time. Especially when they went out clubbing and Mark slapped on a bit of eyeliner and Nicky couldn't not fuck him in the bathroom and feel scratchy growth against his own cheek.

Nicky was pretty sure he was obsessed.

“I've got delicate hands.”

“Oh, poor baby.” The tips of his fingers were kissed. “Even Kian's carrying stuff.” Mark motioned over to where Kian was following Jake up the front path, their arms full with boxes. Mark leaned in, putting his arm around Nicky's waist. “I'll help. I'm very helpful.”

“You are.” Nicky grinned, reaching up to tangle his fingers through Mark's hair, brushing the scar near his temple. Mark didn't seem to notice. Nicky ran his thumb over it again. Mark leaned into the touch.

“Get a room!” Kian called out. Mark chuckled, turning his face into Nicky's hand and kissing the heel of his palm.

“Come on. The sooner we finish moving in, the sooner I can backdoor you on Shane's desk.”

“You have such a way with words.”

“I'm a poet.” He pulled away. Nicky was bereft. “Come on.”

They headed back down to the truck. Shane was standing in the back, helping one of the moving guys unload boxes. Mark took one, hurrying up the path and nudging Kian, who was just coming back out again, making him laugh.

Nicky realised Shane was talking to him.

“Sorry, what?”  
  
“Here, this one's not so heavy.” Shane handed him a box. Nicky took it, feeling a stupid smile spread over his face. Mark had stopped on the path, was saying something to one of the new boys, his eyes sparkling. Shane raised a questioning eyebrow. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” Nicky weighted the box in his hands, looking back at Mark, catching his eyes and feeling the smile he was given radiate through him. “Yeah, I really am.”


End file.
